Thorn
10-13-2006, 02:12 PM
Many years ago when the world was young and wild, a lesser knight of little means found himself out in the lands beyond the highest mountains, riding forth into his own destiny. Where exactly he was heading did not know nor did it seem to matter to this honorable knight, Bane by name.
His quest to find his purpose brought him in contact with many things, and with many people. Our world is one that is filled with much wonder and mystery. Sadly none of this seemed to satisfy the young knight, while he thought himself privileged to live in such a remarkable time he lacked what he wanted most. Purpose and meaning to his life, as we all want of course at one time or another.
Who was he? Why was he here? Was his destiny simply to fight, eat, sleep, and to love? If so this fate was by no means terrible, and many a man has latched on to one or the other of these things with fervor. Some to the point of excess, and of sin in the eyes of many a God. Bane had all these things in his life, as was his right as a knight. He also carried himself with honor, and served the scales of justice as best he could. He was after all just a man, and as such destined to err.
If it were all that there was for him, he would accept this and be the best knight he could be. He would serve land, people, and Queen with all that he was. However if there WAS something out "there" which gave him more of a purpose he intended to find it on this, his quest for "self"
Atop Slepnir his slightly oversized steed he traversed the Forrest covered mountains that separated the Northern wild lands, and spoke the native peoples there. Hearty and very much of the earth, they treated this mounted man covered in heavy metal armor with all the goodness they could offer.
Bane thought himself on the right path to his destiny.
He had seen many things in his life, and though from a "lower" family of modest means, the title Knight grants one a lot of privilege. Wrong? Perhaps, but he had taken to seeing new lands, and seeing the finest the world and the gods had created. Was to enter a port and hear of a dancer, so skilled as to make the swan bow or an artist with such a deft hand as to be able to capture the emotion worn on a face forever more then he would seek them out for himself?
So too on this trip did he seek something that was rare and precious, and beautiful beyond measure? The peoples of the Northlands spoke to him of wild tundra, and rivers of ice, they sung songs about the mountain winds, and of one perfect rose. This caught Bane's ear from the start, the perfect rose to some, the winter rose to others. It was a tale he heard from one or another such soothsayer in each snow-covered village he would ride through or past. The winter rose, the perfect rose.
A rose is a fragile thing, to grow it needs earth and sun, and warmth and rain. Was it possible that such a thing could exist in the frigid north where ice held the land in a permanent grip? If so then this was truly a special thing, a contradiction of sorts. This very much captured the imagination OF Bane the quest knight.
Ever further north he rode in search of such a rose and after a time, at the base of a mountain, near a river of ice, directly above a geyser of hot earth that escaped from deep within the crust of the earth proudly sprang one perfect winter rose. The water made the earth fertile, the hot air gave it warmth, the ice all about protected it from unwanted hands, the sun glinted so brightly at times one could find themselves blinded from the whiteness of the snow. This was the ideal place for a rose to find purchase in the frozen North, in fact only here was this particular type of rose to be found, and oddly enough there was just one of them for it appeared that there was just enough soil from which it sprang to support roots for one. One perfect, winter rose.
The wild lands around the rose surely would consume its beauty eventually thought he, the wolves, the bears; falling ice one cruel frost could steal this rose from the land. A shame he thought, for it was fairer than any maiden, lovelier than any song, and more precious than any smile he had yet to see.
Bane had found his destiny; he knew right away what he must do. He decided then and there though he be of modest means, and but one man in a foreign land he was going to serve and protect this wild thing of wonder, if it meant the death of him. The world would remember the Winter Rose.
And so on this spot did he Bane decide he was going to construct a green house, and about the green house a keep, and around that keep he would build walls, and the within one wall he would place a drawbridge which he would lower. He would lower this bridge and invite in all those who wished to view the one perfect rose, and those who wished to join him in defending it he would invite to stay.
And so it came to pass that The Keep of the Winter Rose was constructed, and how the Thorn Knights were first founded as the first sword pledged him self to the cause. After a time certain "practices" were adopted to signify to the world what these honorable people were and what they were about. Bane took the name Thorn before the name of his birth, for how does a rose so fair defend itself from the feet of animals in the wild? It grows hard, and sharp stems and these Thorns ensure its survival. What name more appropriate for one pledge to ensure the survival of a rose than Thorn? This became the standard for those who served in the Roses Order. Then these men who came from all corners of the globe to the frozen climes of the north all developed facial hair, at first as a way to warm themselves while standing watch atop the walls of the keep or riding out to meet challengers in the tundra. Later as symbolism of unity.
The wooded area to the south of the Tundra which enjoyed the benefits of being so near the warmer lands became after a time to be called Thornwood as all who wished to visit the rose, or keep would need ride through this place. The southern edge of the forest in perpetual summer, the middle adorned by autumn colors near year round, and to the North the white bark of the birch coated in snow and ice a wonder it stood at all. So crisp and cold was the air at all times.
And so now you know as well how came to be the Thorn Knights, the Keep, and ye know as well the tale of The Winter Rose. Do with it what you will traveler, do with it what you will.
His quest to find his purpose brought him in contact with many things, and with many people. Our world is one that is filled with much wonder and mystery. Sadly none of this seemed to satisfy the young knight, while he thought himself privileged to live in such a remarkable time he lacked what he wanted most. Purpose and meaning to his life, as we all want of course at one time or another.
Who was he? Why was he here? Was his destiny simply to fight, eat, sleep, and to love? If so this fate was by no means terrible, and many a man has latched on to one or the other of these things with fervor. Some to the point of excess, and of sin in the eyes of many a God. Bane had all these things in his life, as was his right as a knight. He also carried himself with honor, and served the scales of justice as best he could. He was after all just a man, and as such destined to err.
If it were all that there was for him, he would accept this and be the best knight he could be. He would serve land, people, and Queen with all that he was. However if there WAS something out "there" which gave him more of a purpose he intended to find it on this, his quest for "self"
Atop Slepnir his slightly oversized steed he traversed the Forrest covered mountains that separated the Northern wild lands, and spoke the native peoples there. Hearty and very much of the earth, they treated this mounted man covered in heavy metal armor with all the goodness they could offer.
Bane thought himself on the right path to his destiny.
He had seen many things in his life, and though from a "lower" family of modest means, the title Knight grants one a lot of privilege. Wrong? Perhaps, but he had taken to seeing new lands, and seeing the finest the world and the gods had created. Was to enter a port and hear of a dancer, so skilled as to make the swan bow or an artist with such a deft hand as to be able to capture the emotion worn on a face forever more then he would seek them out for himself?
So too on this trip did he seek something that was rare and precious, and beautiful beyond measure? The peoples of the Northlands spoke to him of wild tundra, and rivers of ice, they sung songs about the mountain winds, and of one perfect rose. This caught Bane's ear from the start, the perfect rose to some, the winter rose to others. It was a tale he heard from one or another such soothsayer in each snow-covered village he would ride through or past. The winter rose, the perfect rose.
A rose is a fragile thing, to grow it needs earth and sun, and warmth and rain. Was it possible that such a thing could exist in the frigid north where ice held the land in a permanent grip? If so then this was truly a special thing, a contradiction of sorts. This very much captured the imagination OF Bane the quest knight.
Ever further north he rode in search of such a rose and after a time, at the base of a mountain, near a river of ice, directly above a geyser of hot earth that escaped from deep within the crust of the earth proudly sprang one perfect winter rose. The water made the earth fertile, the hot air gave it warmth, the ice all about protected it from unwanted hands, the sun glinted so brightly at times one could find themselves blinded from the whiteness of the snow. This was the ideal place for a rose to find purchase in the frozen North, in fact only here was this particular type of rose to be found, and oddly enough there was just one of them for it appeared that there was just enough soil from which it sprang to support roots for one. One perfect, winter rose.
The wild lands around the rose surely would consume its beauty eventually thought he, the wolves, the bears; falling ice one cruel frost could steal this rose from the land. A shame he thought, for it was fairer than any maiden, lovelier than any song, and more precious than any smile he had yet to see.
Bane had found his destiny; he knew right away what he must do. He decided then and there though he be of modest means, and but one man in a foreign land he was going to serve and protect this wild thing of wonder, if it meant the death of him. The world would remember the Winter Rose.
And so on this spot did he Bane decide he was going to construct a green house, and about the green house a keep, and around that keep he would build walls, and the within one wall he would place a drawbridge which he would lower. He would lower this bridge and invite in all those who wished to view the one perfect rose, and those who wished to join him in defending it he would invite to stay.
And so it came to pass that The Keep of the Winter Rose was constructed, and how the Thorn Knights were first founded as the first sword pledged him self to the cause. After a time certain "practices" were adopted to signify to the world what these honorable people were and what they were about. Bane took the name Thorn before the name of his birth, for how does a rose so fair defend itself from the feet of animals in the wild? It grows hard, and sharp stems and these Thorns ensure its survival. What name more appropriate for one pledge to ensure the survival of a rose than Thorn? This became the standard for those who served in the Roses Order. Then these men who came from all corners of the globe to the frozen climes of the north all developed facial hair, at first as a way to warm themselves while standing watch atop the walls of the keep or riding out to meet challengers in the tundra. Later as symbolism of unity.
The wooded area to the south of the Tundra which enjoyed the benefits of being so near the warmer lands became after a time to be called Thornwood as all who wished to visit the rose, or keep would need ride through this place. The southern edge of the forest in perpetual summer, the middle adorned by autumn colors near year round, and to the North the white bark of the birch coated in snow and ice a wonder it stood at all. So crisp and cold was the air at all times.
And so now you know as well how came to be the Thorn Knights, the Keep, and ye know as well the tale of The Winter Rose. Do with it what you will traveler, do with it what you will.