2nd June, 1329.

Road North to Glasgow,

Scotland.

Earth.

Liam’s transformation the day before did not escape the Lord and Lady’s notice long.

“You’ll be a tall man once you reach your full height,” He said as they travelled along the thin road North. Despite the comment, he was still looking down at Liam.

The Lord stood over six foot tall, which was exceedingly rare in Scotland, even for the nobility. It turned out that Liam was not far off his height, but not yet there.

“You’ll likely exceed me at some point!" The lord said, looking him over. "I’m glad your armor now fits you. We’ll have you train in that each night to better accustom you to its weight.”

Liam looked forward to it, wondering what his new strength and vitality would allow him to achieve. “If I may ask, Lord, you said the armor was your son’s? Where is he now?”

Lady Tatania smiled at the question. Clearly eager to talk about the boy. “He’s in Berwick, with a contingent of Knights sent to guard the town.” She said, proudly.

Liam had heard of Berwick. It was the largest trading port in the Kingdom, and something closely guarded against English claims. Ships from Scotland travelled as far as the Latin Empire and even down to the Holy Land. An inconceivable distance for Liam.

Around the camp, people were stirring, already stowing their tents for the beginning of the day’s travels.

Lord James had explained that time was pressing. With the King badly ill, and Crown-Prince David being much younger than Liam, the King required aid.

From what the messenger said, the King was dying. It was imperative that he should instruct his lords and liegemen on what to do should the worst befall him. If that were the case, a regent or protector would need to be elected, and the other Lords must give oath to obey before the King died.

Princess Margaret had not been told. No one wished to see her distressed, and not only because she was the King’s daughter. Her beautiful singing voice had kept them company on the journey North and all thought it would be a shame if she stopped from grief. While she may have been cold to Liam, he begrudgingly realised that she was shy, not mean. She certainly didn't deserve his disdain. Not when her father may lie dying.

From time to time, he and the pages overheard snippets of the Princess' conversation with Lord Douglas and Lady Tatania. Through these, they discovered a great deal about the Lord.

Lord Douglas of Douglas was the greatest friend the king had. His Lord had not only fought in the battles of the English occupation, he had been with The Bruce before his coronation.

Only a handful of men could claim that in all of Scotland.

The Lord was humble, but eventually the Princess brought him to speak of one of the great battles he’d fought against the MacDougall clan. A fight where he’d led a hundred highlanders around the flank of the MacDougalls and caused them to rout, while King Robert held the line.

Liam and the other pages listened with interest, imagining themselves one day leading similar actions.

The day’s travels were far more uneventful than the Lord’s battles of yester-year and far more frustrating. The roads were quickly turning to a muddy slurry, bogging the cart down twice and costing the journey half the day digging it out.

With little to do, and the riders once more travelling in silence, Liam gratefully accepted an invitation to ride in the wagon with Lady Tatania, improving his reading skills. He hitched his horse to the wagon, and climbed aboard, spending time improving his skills.

That night, he was much more satisfied with his ability to read Latin. Something he could now do with little effort, and English no longer troubled him at all. He had even improved his writing by three over the day, as Tatania gave him some writing exercises, which he could use to learn on his own.

*************************

That night's rest was untroubled, but in the morning Lord James awoke, deeply concerned.

As they broke camp, he gathered the Squires and Pages together.

“It’s been five days since the King sent his message to Douglas, three since we recieved it, and we are still at least a day at best from Cardross! We are moving too slowly.”

The gathered young nobles nodded their understanding.

Scotland needed her King more than ever before; monsters roamed the land, and God only knew what the English response to the Horns would be. Whatever the outcome, the Lord needed to attend the King's side as soon as he could.

The cold weather had only made conditions worse.

While mud did not yet fill the roads, Douglas knew that the closer they came to Glasgow, the worse the roads would be. Already some tracks in small villages they passed had become quagmires, feet churning snow into packed soil, to form a thick, cloying mud. It was in these that the wagon had already become stuck, costing them hours. They should have been in Glasgow by now.

The Lord looked angrily at the wagon. It was slowing them down. He did not begrudge his wife comfort, but right now the King - and therefore Scotland - needed speed. They were but one more day’s ride from the estate if they left it behind.

Lord James decided on his course.

“We will leave the wagon today, and ride with all haste. Move it off the road and conceal it as best you can from thieves. We shall pick it up on our way back.” He ordered.

"Yes, Lord" The younger nobles replied, and set about organizing the men.

Lady Tatania seemed content with the decision, moving her belongings and packing away the lighter items quickly. She left the cot and the brazier however, both being unwieldy for the horses to carry.

Once the Lady had mounted her prize mare and the men stowed her belongings across the two cart horses, they once more set out, trotting towards their destination. It surprised Liam at how much riding jostled at this pace. He thought he was doing well until he caught the giggles of the other page boys.

They said nothing, but when Princess Margaret noticed the laughter, she dropped back to see what was so funny.

“You’ll lose your bollocks if you ride like that,” Andrew said, not seeing the Princess' approach. “You look like someone put a suit of armor on a sack of potatoes and sent it off on a horse!”

The Princess, not offended in the least, found the comment uproariously funny and let loose a shriek of laughter at the joke, causing the other boys to join her.

Liam blushed crimson as he mimicked the other boy's posture in the saddle, guided by some rather expert advice from the Princess.

It helped.

Soon, he learnt to feel the movement of the horse beneath him and his ride became much easier on his thighs and backside. While he still had to concentrate on the movement of the beast, he had time to look around at the surrounding landscape as his fellows chatted with the Princess.

“You mean he was a carpenter’s apprentice?” The Princess' voice called out in shock.

“That is true, highness,” Llywelyn answered, being the most comfortable around another royal. “He saved the Lord and Lady from an ambush in the woods not a week ago!”

“Truly?” she asked, looking Liam over once more. “I have to say, although he may look the part of the warrior now, only two days ago he seemed far too skinny to be useful in any fight. You must tell me what happened.”

Liam smiled at that. “I’ll try, Highness.” Liam explained what happened that day. When he got to the part where he slew the archer, he wasn’t sure how to describe it for royal ears. “I was being tortured in the roadway for most of the fight. Truthfully, I only survived because… well… something snapped, I suppose.” He looked away in embarrassment. “I’m not sure really what happened, but when I’d finished stabbing, I gained several levels and my wounds healed.”

The Princess looked impressed. “Few children would have managed what you did. But to be raised to serve a Lord as his page? Who were your parents?” She asked.

Andrew answered her without thinking. “Oh, he’s the Bishop Lamberton’s son. Not sure what the Bishop was doing getting married, but the Lord seems convinced that he’s legitimate.”

Without another word, the Princess rode back to the head of the column, alongside Lady Tatania. The two spoke in low tones for quite a while.

They rode for half the morning, giving Liam a chance to see the Scottish countryside. The effects of the Horns had frozen the landscape. Snow piled up in tree branches and there was a clear lack of animal life. On the road, they passed the occasional duck or summer bird that had been too far north as the Horns blew. Now they lay frozen, dead on the ground. He was sure there were even more buried under the snow.

Liam wondered what other beasts would do during this frozen summer. Usually wild animals could sense the seasonal change and fattened themselves for a thin few months of forage. Now it seemed unlikely they would survive the unseasonal weather.

It bade ill for the summer crops, which were rapidly dying beneath the snow cover. During his time in the carpentry, Liam had never gone hungry for more than a day or so. Even during the last stages of the War of Independence, the food had seemed to be readily available. It was about to become far more scarce.

The travelers rode through moorland and fens, occasionally passing through villages or hamlets on the road to Glasgow. Most of the small folk called out to the travelers, asking for news, supplies or to carry a message for their Lord or the King.

At each settlement, Lord Douglas stopped to address the people, always assuring them that their Lords and the Holy Mother Church would see them through the Tribulation. He regularly gave coins to the people and reminded them to keep faith in God. Each time, warning them of the Harpies and ordering them to post a watch, or consider fortifying some of the sturdier buildings.

As time progressed, Liam increased his riding skill by three. The increase correlated with a rise in comfort, so that now he was thoroughly enjoying the journey. His seat still burned with pain, but it was much improved from the cramping agony he’d felt earlier.

His companions made it much easier by joking and teasing each other. Liam was grateful that the other boys had fully welcomed him into their group. Occasionally, the Princess would drop back, bored by the journey.

Squire Iain had even joined in, and ignoring the Princesses coy glances, gave Liam some advice on how he could stretch his tight muscles while still in the saddle.

Trying the exercises, he found it worked to relieve the pain significantly, although it soon returned.

The road continued to wend its way north-west.

As morning gave way to noon, the party reached a valley nestled between a lake and a forest. To each side of the road, fields of uncut hay were covered in snow. A village lay ahead. It surrounded a bridge, joining the road to the other side of a large stream, which ran from behind the forest to the lake. Smoke was wafting gently from the chimneys of the central houses.

As the company approached, they found themselves confronted by a barricade across the entrance to the hamlet. It lay between two of the huts, smeared in blood. Someone had fought here recently, but no one could tell who had been fighting.

Liam felt it did not bode well that none of the hamlet’s serfs had come out to see the large party of riders.

“This is Ferniegair,” Aidan said softly. “My father took me through here once to Cadzow Keep, he was introducing me to court and to see The Bruce before I turned six. The Laird of Cadzow lives just over there, beyond those woods." He jerked his chin at the woods. "If bandits are raiding this close to the Keep, we may find things there much worse than we expect.”

“Aye,” Andrew said. “But who could raid this close to a city like Glasgow? And why is no one making account for this barricade across the King’s road?”

Liam stayed silent as the other boys discussed the situation. He looked ahead and saw Lord James and Lady Tatania talking with Iain before the Squire bowed in his saddle and spurred his horse towards the escort.

Gathering eight men, they dismounted and with drawn swords clambered over the barricade and into the town. The rest of the men remained mounted, keeping a careful lookout.

Liam and the other pages also looked about. On their right, about two hundred yards away, lay the River Clyde, while on their left the fields rose to a small hill, covered in dense woodland. The treeline lay a good two hundred yards from the road, and the soldiers of the escort scanned it carefully in case of ambush.

As they waited for Iain to return, Liam focused on different parts of the forest. Red visions appeared identifying different trees. Much of the identification ability seemed dependent on his knowledge of the world, and so the trees were only identifiable if Colm had told him what type they were. Most of the wood in this area was birch and stood clustered thickly amongst high grasses and bushes that he couldn’t identify.

Despite the lack of any name, the bushes and grass all showed durability numbers. And one had health.

The branches stirred in the wind, interrupting Liam’s view and causing the vision to fade. Yet he hadn’t looked away. He searched the area once more and saw it again. The name had changed to a symbol Lady Tatania had been showing him during his writing lesson. He recalled it was a short form of the word “Questio” or Question. Tatania had written it as a q above a letter o.

He displayed the vision to his friends, asking, “What do you make of this?”

?

The other boys looked puzzled for a moment, as Liam pointed to the location where he could still see the target of his focus. He couldn’t make it out, as the distance was still too great.

The other boys focused on the forest too, displaying similar visions. Liam tried something. He focused on Andrew.

Andrew De Leslie

Level 4

Human

Health: 80/80

Then he focused on one of the Princess' Guard. A man he didn’t know.

?

Realization struck and Liam yelled. “They’re in the trees!”

Scabbards rattled and shields rose to face the treeline as a chorus of bestial howls bellowed forth from the wood. In the hamlet, Squire Iain sprinted into view, followed closely by three of the eight men who had accompanied him. Chasing them were some strange green skinned creatures. They caught one man, and he fell screaming as spears and hatchets brutally dismembered him.

Iain and his remaining men threw themselves over the barricade and hurled themselves into their saddles, the green-skinned creatures continuing to tear at the flesh of the butchered man-at-arms.

The monsters in the village, however, were not the primary threat. From the western forest swarmed a few hundred of the small creatures. While a few of them were armoured, their thick cloaks covering a primitive leather harness, most were naked.

A taller creature stepped out in front, his black spear held in two hands pointed at the sky. It screamed some words to the heavens and danced back and forth in front of its fellows, jabbing the spear towards the humans. Then it turned and charged.

The goblins followed, howling in their rage at the horsemen.

Lord James drew his sword, gesturing Lady Tatania and the Princess towards the middle of the soldiers, where the thirteen men of the Princess’ guard surrounded them.

Raising his blade so his men could see him more clearly, the Lord of Douglas swept it downwards as he bellowed, “FORWARD!”. The Lord sheathed his blade and took up his lance from Squire Iain who, his duty to his lord completed, turned and regrouped with the pages.

The mounted Men at Arms carried an assortment of weapons, from long lances to more unconventional hammers and axes. They followed their lord in a long line at the walk. Liam and the other pages stayed back.

Liam had never seen a cavalry charge, and this was not at all what he thought it would be. He imagined the knights rode forward at the gallop, perfectly aligned to smash into the enemy with the force of a mountain.

Instead, the lord walked his troop towards the goblin swarm as it charged heedlessly towards them. The cavalry’s speed then increased to a trot and rapidly to the canter. The goblins were close now, and at the last moment, the lord’s lance dropped, held in a couched position under his arm, supported by his hand beneath the shaft. To each side, the other riders rode boot to boot in formation, giving the goblins before them no way to escape the lance-tips, nor the pounding hooves of the mounts as they fell. Speared and trampled.

The Goblins, who had spread out in their eagerness to reach the mounted party stood no chance.

The charge smashed down the oncoming horde with overwhelming force. The small creatures, crushed under the impact of the great shire horses or eviscerated by blows from lance, pole arm and axe, died by the score. A few of the polearms broke on impact, and those riders drew swords to continue the merciless slaughter of the now fleeing goblins.

Following the carnage, Liam and the other pages hunted out the dazed survivors. They rode at a canter, slashing at the creatures, while Liam took a measured approach, spitting each of them through the eye with careful lunges from the saddle. He found, however, that the blade would catch in their bone and he nearly lost his grip on the blade a few times. After a few kills, he reverted to the slashing action the other pages used.

From horseback, thrusting with any weapon you did not wish to lose was a dangerous move.

Only a few of the goblins fought back, but the armor and shields of the pages were enough to turn the blows of the dazed monsters. Llywelyn gained a superficial cut from an axe that rode over the edge of his shield to brush his arm, but aside from that minor wound, the boys were entirely unharmed.

The charge of the horses ended at the wood, and the fight nearly turned against the men of Douglas. The goblins had reformed into ranks, creating a wall of short spears and other pointed weapons aimed at the human force.

The men of Douglas, of whom only 19 had joined the charge, had decimated the loose formation of green-skinned beasts in the open field. Now less than half of the enemy remained. Despite this, they proved deadly, advancing quickly to drag two of Lord Douglas’s men from the saddle. Surprised, the men put up a strong fight, but were quickly overwhelmed, mercilessly slain by large numbers of the creatures working together. As the other riders completed the turn, they galloped back to the roadway to recover for another charge.

Every man, including Lord James, glowed with golden light, as did the other Pages. Liam, however, did not, having only gained a small amount of experience for the creatures he slew. The most surprising thing to occur was the horses also glowed. Those steeds that had killed goblins grew far more muscular, the leather of their saddles cinching tightly so that a few bucked until their rider dismounted and adjusted the straps quickly.

The Pages had pulled back to the roadway before the Men at Arms had retired, and were momentarily safe. Using the time, Liam focused on a green-skin corpse.

Goblin Raider

Level 1

Goblin

Health: 0/130

You are too far away to loot.

Then he received a new message.

Identify has reached level 2.

“They’re Goblins. They seem to have about 130 health!” He told the other Pages. Llywelyn nodded. He displayed his own vision as he focused on a dead goblin. His vision, however, did not display the Goblins’ health.

“In Wales, we called them Coblyns. They were creatures found deep underground in great mines, and once helpful and kind to men. They must have turned to evil after the Horns, or they are being forced to fight.” He said. “My Mother once told me they make homes in all mines and caves and guide miners to treasure. My Great sire even had stories of them, that they helped him escape the English!”

Aidan grinned, ignoring Llywelyn. He was too busy looking over his statistics. “I’ve levelled up four times!” He said.

“You levelled up too?” Andrew asked, “What are you going to do with your available attri...?” He asked.

Aidan’s scream interrupted him as the lads muscles thickened and contracted. He almost dropped his lance, but caught it against the saddle. “Argh! That bloody hurts.” he said. “Agility, Strength and Vitality evenly.” He said.

“Make sure you allocate your Attributes!” Liam said, “But do it slowly, otherwise you’ll end up in as much pain as Aidan.”

Andrew and Llywelyn did so. Llywelyn did not seem to change much at all, merely looking about with wide eyes, as if truly seeing the world for the first time. Andrew, however, grew slowly in the saddle, his armor tightening slightly around him.

Across the field, a large goblin had stepped out before the others and began shrieking at them, in a goblin language.

Lord Douglas took the momentary pause in hostilities to address his own men. “Make sure you assign the attributes you have.”

Iain interrupted his Lord “I beg pardon, My Lord, remind them to do so slowly. It will hurt them badly if they don’t.” The messenger voiced his agreement, “Aye, lord. It is a mistake you only wish to make once.”

Lord James smiled through his open helm. He had put his own points into wisdom, his lowest attribute. The change was significant, and many of the lessons he should have learnt from his past came flooding to the fore, allowing him to adjust his decisions and better absorb advice.

Refusing to ignore the offered counsel, the Lord nodded. “Do as my Squire instructs men!”

The Men at Arms assigned the points as fast as they could while riding the border of pain and growth. Their bodies shifted as the new strength, health, and potency flooded them.

The new goblin leader clearly felt he harangued his troops into enough of a fervour they would charge once more. Seeing the mounted humans levelling up, it screeched in outrage and pointed a sword at the group. The goblins prepared once more to charge.

“We wait for them to cross half the field.” Lord James ordered. He wanted to ensure that this time the goblins could not retreat to the treeline.

The goblins charged head on, this time closing up their ranks before they started. As they had reached half the distance to their goal, they spread out.

The goblin leader screeched at the overeager swarm, but his demands went unheard as the unorganized monsters became a rabble again, sprinting all out towards the horsemen.

The Douglas cavalry gripped their weapons, leant into their saddles and began the charge once more. While the initial attack had broken many of the lances held by the cavalry, their added attributes more than made up for the lack of reach provided by the long spears.

This time, they demolished their opponents. Swords driven by system enhanced strength or dexterity bisected the goblins, and the increased speed of the Men at Arms meant that only a handful got through.

Liam and the party of Pages had stayed back again, to mop up any goblins that escaped.

They watched as the goblins attempted a different tactic. After the first charge, only the more intelligent goblins seemed to have survived. These had spread out, and ran to the flanks of the charge, allowing the green skins who lacked sense to take the brunt of the impact.

The results, however, were the same. The charge swept through the goblins, and the horsemen broke off the flanks of the primary force of Douglas cavalry to charge down those wiser goblins who escaped the brunt of the clash.

With less than ten goblins remaining, Lord Douglas was about to order Ian and the pages to join the charge when he heard the sounds of distant combat behind him. Amongst the din he heard a single desperate cry.

"AMBUSH!"

The voice was his wife's. Turning, an icy fear gripped him.

A second force had emerged from the embankment leading down to the lake and his wife was under attack.