"Once, not as long ago as it now seems, a golden king ruled from the throne room of Orinskeep; his name was Richard, though the common people called him 'the Fae', for his beauty was ethereal and his sense of justice and compassion rivaled the gods'. He'd taken a wife, a girl as delicate and innocent as a doe whom he loved fiercely and tenderly, but she died young bringing Richard's heir into the world, and in mourning he never married again but brought up his son as best he could.

"The boy, Edwin, was spared no pleasure, but the King was sure not to spoil him, and he grew up as unworldly as his father. Looking out over the ramparts of the Keep, often the young prince could be seen riding his roan mare through the apple orchards at any time of year, from spring's thaw 'till the deepest snow blocked his paths.

"Little did we know how short our time of peace and plenty would last!

"When Edwin was ten and two years old, his father was most foully murdered by poison, and others in the city also fell ill and weak, poisoned by the same substance, though not as strong. We did not have to search out the perpetrators of this deed, as soon dread barbarians from the sands far to the east laid siege upon our walls and that they were treacherously polluting our water supply with poison.

"Their general was a cruel man who had organized the hordes into a deadly and efficient fighting force, and with so many fighting men falling ill from tainted water or dehydration from no water at all, we had not the force to repel them.

"The king's elite, the Knights of the Hawk, were cut down and slaughtered under the attack. They cannot be blamed for their failure; there were five barbarians for every man in the city and they hit us like a sea-storm. Few men survived, and those that did were treated as slaves until they managed to die or escape.

"Alexander the Gothic Sword- the commander of the Knights- was one of the lucky few to have escaped the bloodshed and tyrannical reign, perhaps only to commit honorable suicide in the lonely hills or to die of a broken heart in lands far from the city he loved.

"No one knows what became of the young prince Edwin, though he was almost certainly killed as well."

The older man sighed and closed his eyes wearily, his voice beginning to shake with rough emotion.

The wind swept around the burned-out husk of a once marvelously beautiful stone room, swaying the tattered remnants of tapestries and standards and running chill fingers through the hair of the men gathered there. The last of the dying daylight shone orange through the shattered stained glass windows, turning everything golden and giving a feral glow to haunted eyes.

"They still hold the city, and we meet here in peril. If we are caught we will be sent immediately to the block without even the dignity of trial.

"I am the last of the Knights of the Hawk remaining, and well I remember that day that we fell! Well I remember the night that Alexander kissed me on the cheek when we parted paths! I swore that dawn that someday the barbarians would be driven back to the Wastes from which they came, and I would see a proper king on the throne once more.

"Mayhap even Alexander's younger brother, Thorn."

The grizzled warrior gestured to one of the men standing behind him who nodded in acknowledgement.

"Aye, and well told, Bayolin," he said, stepping forward toward the young man- no more than a boy, really- who was sitting in a chair and to whom the story had been retold.

"Jonathan," Thorn addressed the boy, "we are the new Knights of the Hawk. We number seven as that is a sacred number, and we will return Orinskeep to the glory that it has been robbed of. We will face persecution, terror, danger, and most likely, death. We will fight and no one will save us if we fail; the world will be plunged into a dark time of ignorance and barbarism. Do you still wish to come with us and join our ranks?"

Jonathan- who'd awoken that morning as a simple farm boy- looked at the assembled men. He found little comfort in their blank expressions and fighter's garb, but he saw something else there as well, something that eased his mind and relaxed his lips. He looked bravely back at the tall man with cropped black hair that stood before him. "Yes."

"Be it so," answered Thorn. He nodded brusquely, and then turned to those waiting behind him. "This is Jonathan, the last new Knight of the Hawk!"