As Jardel calmly went about his normal daily activities at home, he heard a sharp knock at the door. He looked outside the window to see who it was, and saw three men. Two of them were dressed in chainmail, armed with longswords. The third seemed to be more of a scholarly gentleman, sporting balding white hair and glasses. He was wearing fine white robes, and had a look of wisdom about him. The old man looked anxiously over to the two warriors next to him. These two appeared to be the kings guards, wearing the livery of King Halfred, a light blue cross of Dunador on a canary yellow field. Since the kings death, all men of rank travelled only well guarded. Assuming they were on official business, Jardel answered the door nervously. The bald man smiled as the door opened, "Greetings sir, I am Hollend, advisor to the late king. I would like to invite you to Prince Edmunds coronation, so that he and I can speak to you of matters important to the kingdom. It is tomorrow, if you come, please bring with you all that you will need for a long journey through these troubled lands, as you won’t be back home for quite some time, should you except our offer." He handed Jardel a sealed invitation and bowed slightly. Jardel returned the bow to Hollend "You shall not be disappointed, good Sir. Tomorrow I will partake in the eventful coronation of our Prince Edmund. Fair day."
After the men had left the knight sat back down at the table. Carefully he popped open the wax seal of the scroll and read the invitation. Planning to ride to Dunador castle Jardel strapped his neatly polished Plate mail over his journeying clothes and girdle. Over that he donned his clean white ceremonial toga. Once outfitted he looked around the room to gather some useful items possibly needed for his next adventure: a small leather bound diary, a vial of ink and a quill, some chalk, a torch, his flint and steel, 2 flasks of oil, 50’ silk rope, a full waterskin, and some cheese. He stuffed all of these items in a linnen travel shoulder sack. An iron vial with a useful potion stuck firmly in his belt, where some pouches with his money also dangled. There too he stuffed the invitation scroll. At his waste also hung a small leather pack, his first aid kit, filled with herbs, lotions and some clean cloth. His and trusted long sword and a dagger also hung sheathed from his waist. Once ready he grabbed 2 blankets, his linnen shoulder sack and his helm to enter the stables where Aistlin his warhorse was waiting. Calmly he whispered into the horses ear "Hey Aistlin, it looks like it is time to prove Heimdall our worthiness again." After saddling up, he handed the peasant boy taking care of Aistlin a SP and rode off to Dunador castle, thinking it important to be there on time. Upon leaving his dwelling ... possibly for the last time, he looked back for one last glimpse, that terrible thought carrying him through the dark times ahead.
As he rode through Dunador, people were busy preparing for the days coronation of the new king, too busy to notice an armed warrior riding amongst them. People were running back and forth between houses and carts, carrying all kinds of food. Orders from adults could be heard, telling their children what to carry. The children seemed even eager to do their parents bidding, as they scurried around with a new energy. Since the king was murdered and the prince was kidnapped, times seemed desperate. Now with renewed zest after the prince was returned by a small group of hearty adventurers, the people of the surrounding villages of Dunador rushed with new found happiness. Jardel melted in with the line of carts and buggies pulled by mostly oxen, as horses were expensive. Most people never noticed his company. The others only eyed him as a necessity of the new beginning. The road headed along a well used, wide trail straight for a tall, grand looking castle, even more grand looking than usual with all of the festive, colorful banners and flags draped across its front. Guards were thick, as they did not want the king murdered or kidnapped. Upon reaching the front gates, guards stood at the ready, asking for invitations.
After handing them his invitation, their eyes got very serious, "There has been a seat assigned especially to you, hold on one minute," they warranted, and trotted off into the gatehouse. Quickly they returned with Hollend. The older man smiled warmly, "I'm glad you came, we must hurry". The guards motioned for the stable boy. The lad rushed up and took the reigns of the warhorse as the knight dismounted. He followed Hollend as he was led high into the gatehouse directly to the catwalks above the courtyard. Looking down as they made their way across them the height was almost dizzying. It had to be 200 feet straight down. Soon the catwalk ended as they reached a door, where an old man was already waiting. Hollend opened it and whispered something inside, motioning Jardel and the old man to enter into the grand hall. There he saw a boy dressed in fine cloth and robes to match. He held a scepter in one hand while resting his hand thoughtfully on a crown at his side. Hollend cleared his throat, "Your majesty, they have almost all arrived now," he announced mildly. The boy appeared to be of around fifteen years, with short cropped dark hair and a lean, intelligent face. His eyes on the other hand, showed a different age, one who had seen a lot in their lifetime, eyes of wisdom. The boy turned and looked at the members present.
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