It is the hope of the elder geion that they struggle so the may not. It is often the case the first geion struggles, the sed geion be from the struggle but hear of it, while the third be from the struggle and dismiss it.

  Sir Katherine had heard of Jarot years ago, when she was still in training. She had been young by the time Jarot’s rampage had truly ehe young Iyrman almost disappearing into myth.

  It was in every geion, dozens upon dozens of Iyrmen made names for themselves, but most did not force their story further than it naturally reached, even if it was suppressed. However, there were some stories which could not be suppressed, and every geion, there were always a few Iyrmen who breached further ahead, until they were brought into the stories to stop children from causing trouble.

  Jarot was one suame.

  Mad Dog. Bloody Jarot. The Crimson Shield.

  Jarot had gaihose niames, and many more, a rarity even among Iyrmen. Typically, one would gain a niame, and it would stick, but sometimes, wheories were still building, still passing through the various taverns, one would do so much, it was no surprise they gained several niames.

  All khe name Mad Dog, for a name like that passed through the nd like wildfire, but the name Bloody Jarot? The story behind that niame? The name Crimson Shield? The story behind that niame? The various other niames Jarot held and the stories behind them? There were only a few who realised they all beloo the same man.

  The Jarot.

  The Jarot who had gone around fighting the guard captains of so many he Jarot who had gone frion tion, fighting all that he could. He was not famous because he had defeated them, but because he had lost to so many. Jarot The Kid, they had called him inally. He was brash, a fool, and many dismissed him as one of the childish maniacs of the Iyrmen. Then, as the years passed, and not as many as one might expect, there were tales of Iyrmen going around doing their business, being Iyrmen. They slew tless creatures, fought against legends of the past, present, and future.

  Yet, of the Iyrmen, there were a few which spread across the nd. Drakebane.

  Wildheart.

  Deathhand.

  Mad Dog.

  Three of those names went on to bee the Great Elders of the Iyr, and although many assumed the Mad Dog would take the title of one of the Great Elders, they heard nothing of it. In fact, as Jarot rampaged across the ually the tales of his defeats were surpassed by tales of his victories. Sometimes the tales had beuddied, for he had defeated so many great warriors and knights, many had no idea what was true and what was false.

  The tale of Jarot defeated the Eagle morphed into him defeating the Bck Hawk, the Golden Hand, and even the King’s Sword. Although the st was not true, the rumours eventually maed into truth, as eventually Jarot did go on to defeat the Bck Hawk and the Golden Hand, but it had not been so at the time. Many have alsotten the names of those Jarot had cshed with in his youth, while they themselves were up and ing. The likes of Fme Bde, several of those g the title of The Mighty, and so many others. The extent of Jarot’s rampage was known only to the Iyrman himself.

  It was Jarot’s fight against Seasword which had ted his name in legend forever. Dane Seasword, the Seasword, who had goo the northern isnd that only meah, and had returned alive. Seasword was sidered among the greatest of legends in his day, and he had beaten Jarot before he had earhe niame of The Kid, but it was not The Kid who had returned not even a decade ter, but an Iyrman by the name of Bloody Jarot, The Crimson Shield, and more famously, Mad Dog.

  Sir Katherine recalled Jarot’s name, for how could she fet, as someone who grew up in the era where his name was often spoken in hushed whispers. There was a rumour he had died, hence why he never appeared again, but there was another rumour while she was making a name for herself that Mad Dog, the Mad Dog, was seen again. He had go to kill a dragon, one of the craziest dragons in all the nds.

  Upon hearing the name of the Mad Dog, a viander by the name of Sir James Greatwood, had goo meet the terrible figure known as Mad Dog, the pair having missed each other iime, but when he had returned…

  ‘The Mad Dog is dead.’

  It was all the viander said, and though Sir Katherine realised there was more to the statement than just that Jarot had died, a chill took within her heart. The Mad Dog was gone, lost to the winds of time.

  Except, i year, there were several tales which had spread through the nd, like the pgue which had almost destroyed the kingdom so long ago. That of Lord Asa, the fiery protector of Ever Green. That of a Blood Knight, or Blood Demon as some referred to him as. That of the Traitor King. That of a mad dog who had taken the arm of a viander of Bck Moon.

  It was not the tale of a mad dog, but the Mad Dog.

  So when Jurot faced against one of the Experts of the outpost and seemed tle, barely able to nd a blow with a mindless rage, it surprised Katherine. Was this boy not a grandson of the Mad Dog? Did the blood of the Mad Dog create such a disappoi.

  It was only when Jurot stood over the fallen Expert when the Whirlwind Arrow realised. Jurot has beaten one of the elite members of their outpost as though he were chopping down a tree. It started off with a slow cut which did little to dissuade the Expert before, all of a sudden, Jurot came down upon him with a viciousness none had expected.

  Jurot growled quietly, having been pressed by the Expert in the early rounds, even to the point his neck had been cut. He felt the trickle of the hot blood pour down the side of his neck. He reached up to press his finger against it, feeling the warm liquid against his fiip, before bringing it to his lips to lick it, tasting the iron. His eyes theo the ander of the outpost.

  ‘What is he doing?’

  “I wish to fae of your knights,” Jurot said.

  “You have already cimed a victory,” the ander replied, bowing her head lightly.

  “I do not mi,” Jurot replied, simply, pressing the issue further.

  Mararrowed her eyes. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to show off, or if he just wao face against one of her knights. “Would you like to rest beforehand?”

  “No,” Jurot replied. “My body is warm.”

  Marcia wasn’t sure why Jurot was undermining her authority, but she turo fae of her knights, a knight who could be sidered a Master. “Sir Karen, if you would.”

  Sir Karen stepped forward, adorned iemail, head to toe, while drawing her greatsword, which was no doubt magical. The knight bowed her head and Jurot returhe same respebsp;

  The pair cshed together, far more viciously than when Jurot faced the Expert. Sir Karen was no slouch, that was for certain, her magical greatsword rushing through the air, almost crag it with her strength.

  Adam watched ily, trying to uand what Jurot was doing. His brother tio csh with Sir Karen, the knight who seemed to be extremely powerful. Even though Jurot had fought the Expert to pletion, this bout was a greater struggle for the Iyrman.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Adam thought, watg as the pair traded blows, axe against refieel, greatswainst thick flesh.

  Sir Karen inhaled deeply, shrugging off the blow, realising this Iyrmen, who was hot red with rage, was not someoo be trifled with. Yet, she was one of Lady Marcia’s personal knights, one of the knights who was from a brang family, brought up as a knight to plete her duties for the main branch which spawned her family.

  The pair danced, with Sir Kareing the pace, pushing through her limits to show the Iyrman a wall. It was a wall made of a knight which would put the young man in his pce. Sir Karen, who could go toe to toe with some of the greatest warriors in the various orders, perhaps not the absolute top brass, but certainly those who would be tenders for vianders iure.

  The magical bde cttered off the magical shield, but Adam couldn’t hear it. As Phantom struck across the knight, he couldn’t see it.

  ‘What are you doing, Jurot?’

  Sir Katherin watched with bated breath, her eyes pierg the two figures locked in bat. Sir Karen was someone she would have some difficulty fag against, surely she’d win, but it would take quite some effort. Yet the Iyrman was still g with her even after fag an Expert? She was certain the Iyrmen was around the level of an Expert, a he seemed to be holding on.

  It was only the victor loomed over the defeated when a thought came to Whirlwind Arrow.

  ‘Yes,’ she thought. ‘He is truly his grandson.’

  I fot how many chapters the party spend here.