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Welcome to the Crimson Sword.




This is an inn exclusive to the Crimson Brigade. Of course friends of the Brigade are often found within it’s walls. There is an extensive stable for all their horses, enough rooms that each and every Knight has their own set of rooms.

The inn keep always keeps a running tab, knowing that it will be paid in full by the captain or the King if need be.

A back room is where many of the unofficial councils are held for the knights.
No one is allowed in that room except for the Knights themselves.
Sometimes to keep the kingdom safe, they must meet in secret where no one can over hear what it is they are planning.


The Crimson Sword Inn is often a place just to escape the pressures of the kingdom.

The Inn was filling up fast. Many friends and families of the Knights often used this place.
Gwyndara noticed that Kat had come in, so she made her way to Kat’s table.
“Evening Lady.” She said to the woman.

Gwyndara smiled. Kat was so much like her father. It was hard to believe that he was gone. Even after all these years she still felt the emptiness in her heart.

“Thanks Kat.” She said and sat down.

“Have I ever told you, that you look like your father?” she asked the woman. She did more than look like him though, she had so many of his mannerisms that sometimes Gwyndara often got the two confused in her mind, and it was always a painful shock when she cleared her mind and remembered that Kat was not her father.

(I read your profile.)

Gwyndara looked sad. “Yes, but that was long before you were born. I actually introduced your parents to each other. And when I found out that your mother was in love with your father I arranged for them to be able to marry. They were so happy.” Gwyndara smiled remembering her two best friends.

“Your father and mother followed their hearts, as I have always taught you to do.” She said with emotion.

Gwyndara sighed. “Out of respect or because of what he did. Who can really say? Your father was one of those men who did what was right no matter the cost. He helped King Galen to gain his throne. Some say that if your father hadn’t have helped him, then things would be worse off. Some say that your father was a traitor and deserved to die. I can’t really answer that, because I really don’t know. But I will say this. Your father was a brave and honest man. He lived by the code and he died by the code. He loved your mother and he loved you very much. You should be proud to be his daughter. I know he was proud to be your father.” Gwyndara said passionately.

Gwyndara smiled. “Your welcome. I’ll leave you to your ale now. It’s been an interesting day, and tomorrow will be even more so, If anyone needs me I’ll be upstairs in my room. I think I’ll stay here for the night.” Then she stood up and made her way to her room.

Once inside her room she closed and locked the door then she sat on the edge of her bed, and began to cry as old memories stirred within her heart. It was true she had loved the man, but she loved the King more, and was grateful for the sacrifice he made, so that Galen could become who he was meant to be.

Then she changed her clothes and climbed into bed, laid down and slept.

He entered the Inn slowly, a long flowing dark cloak upon his shoulders, and the cowl pulled up and over his head. His hand as usual lie upon the hilts of his two sword, and his eyes continued to scan the room.

The Inn was full of customers, and he was sure that the Inn Keeper was pleased. He sound wound his way through the people, his armor chinking some as he did move about.

Upon the bar, he placed some gold coins.

"Ale, please."

Marcus had crept in like the mist. The door had opened creakily as he ghoulishly walked in, wearing a robe over his body with the hood pulled over his head. It was a dark night, and his presence could easily bring chills to anyone who was not of high constitution. He peered about silently and sat at an empty alcove by himself. He kept the hood on, but on the side of the robe was the crest of the Crimson Knights, clearly the masked stranger was a knight. In a raspy voice, Marcus raised his hands ever slightly as to not reveal himself. "A shot of firewine, barkeep."