A horn sounds beyond the hall. Shouts answer it, followed by pounding feet and smoke curling beneath the great doors as the court recoils from the omen.
A palace guard staggers through the side entrance, a broad young man in dented mail with soot on his shaved head and blood darkening one sleeve. He braces himself against a pillar.
Palace Guard 1
My lord, armed commoners fill the outer steps. They demand the summoned standard be shown, and Mira Seln delivered to them.
The northern warlord rises, black furs sweeping the throne’s steps. The court presses away from the doors; the opposing champion remains near the circle with his weapon lowered, while the scholar lies unconscious on the stone.
The Northern Warlord
They rally around your victory, stranger, and around the freedom you gave her. Now they would make both into a banner.
Every gaze turns toward Creighton. Mira stands unchained beside the guards, rubbing her wrists; beyond the doors, the crowd beats fists against the hall’s ancient wood.
Mira Seln
They are not asking for me alone. They want proof that the summons is real, and they have chosen you as its living answer.
✓ Quest Accepted
Hold the hall against the uprising
“"Summons?" I question, "What does this summons mean? What standard do you speak of? I have no notion of what you speak."”
SUCCESS (Great Reasoning, rolled +0)
Creighton Burrell
Summons? What does this summons mean? What standard do you speak of? I have no notion of what you speak.
The pounding beyond the doors continues, but the warlord raises one hand. The hall quiets enough for his answer to carry across the stone.
The Northern Warlord
The standard is an ancient military banner, taken from a regiment that guarded these borderlands. Veyr Ashmantle stole it and brought it here.
The Northern Warlord
Its hidden power calls soldiers and warlords to gather. The summons is that call: whoever answers must claim, guard, or destroy the standard before it draws the borderlands into war.
The warlord points toward the unconscious scholar, then toward the smoke-veiled doors. Outside, armed commoners shout for the relic and for Mira’s freedom.
Mira Seln
The old laws make every claimant answerable to the summons. Your victory placed you in that circle, but it did not make you the standard’s servant.
The Northern Warlord
You stand for her freedom, stranger. Now you also stand between that stolen banner and the war it promises. That is your role.
✓ Quest Accepted
Secure the ancient military standard
“"What do these armies march against?" I ask. "What foe do they intend to face? If I secure the standard, do they flock to my banner?"”
SUCCESS (Great Reasoning, rolled +1)
Creighton Burrell
What do these armies march against? What foe do they intend to face? If I secure the standard, do they flock to my banner?
The northern warlord’s raised hand keeps the hall still. Beyond the doors, the armed commoners continue their demands, but the warlord’s answer reaches even them through the ancient stone.
The Northern Warlord
They march against no named foe. They march toward the standard, believing whoever holds it can command the borderlands and choose the enemy afterward.
The Northern Warlord
Some seek rival warlords, some fear invasion from the southern marches, and some simply hunger for plunder. The banner gives their fear a direction, not a single enemy.
Mira straightens beside the guards, freed wrists lowered now. Her gaze moves from the northern warlord to the smoke-veiled doors, measuring the difference between command and ownership.
The Northern Warlord
If you secure it, many will flock to your banner because the summons bends them toward a claimant. They will not become obedient soldiers. Each will demand a purpose, a share, or an enemy worth facing.
Mira Seln
Then the standard does not give you an army, Creighton. It gives every frightened blade a reason to stand near yours, until you name what they must fight.
“"I claim it and name all forces of the nether; all forces of evil." I announce. "Once and for all, I would see all demons and creatures of the dark routed from this land, in the name of the one true God, Yahweh Adonai!"”
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +3)
Creighton Burrell
I claim it, and name all forces of the nether, all forces of evil. Once and for all, I would see demons and creatures of the dark routed from this land, in the name of the one true God, Yahweh Adonai!
The smoke beneath the doors twists inward. From beneath Veyr’s unconscious body, an ancient black standard tears free, its torn gold device blazing, and settles into Creighton’s grasp. The pounding outside stops.
A shock passes through the hall. The banner’s unseen summons bends toward Creighton, revealing distant fires along the southern marches and countless armed bands turning their faces north.
The Northern Warlord
Then the standard has chosen its enemy, and you have given its gathering a name. Every claimant in the borderlands has heard you.
Mira Seln
Creighton, the banner answers you. Not as a servant answers a master, but as a weapon accepts the hand that dares to wield it.
Armed Commoners
The standard is claimed! The dark is named! Open the hall!
The court recoils, while the palace guards tighten their ranks around Mira. The opposing champion watches the banner without raising his weapon, and beyond the doors forty voices now call Creighton’s purpose their own.
Quest Complete
Secure the ancient military standard
Attribute Upgrade: Reasoning Great→Superb
+ New Item Acquired
Ancient Military Standard
“"I call upon the One True God, Yahweh Adonai, and claim the power of the First Paladin of Christ." I kneel in reverence as I call out to my God. "Lord God, imbue me with your divine power. Allow me the honor to perform divine magics. Lead me toward your foes."”
FAILURE (Good Willpower, rolled +1)
Creighton Burrell
Lord God, imbue me with your divine power. Allow me the honor to perform divine magics. Lead me toward your foes.
Creighton kneels, lowering the claimed standard before him. Its black cloth hangs motionless while the hall holds its breath, and the armed commoners outside wait beyond the barred doors.
No divine fire answers. The standard’s gold device dims to a dull ember, and the promised power refuses to settle in Creighton’s hands.
Yet a narrow silver thread appears within the torn gold, pointing through the southern fires toward a distant black ridge. Along it, one flame burns apart from the rest.
Mira Seln
The god has not given you a spell, Creighton. But the banner has shown you a road, and something waiting at its end.
The Northern Warlord
Then your prayer failed to command the heavens, but it sharpened the summons. The southern flame is a destination, not a victory.
The silver thread remains visible only while Creighton kneels. Palace Guards keep Mira within their ring as the court watches, and the crowd outside begins pounding on the doors again.
“"If God is unwilling to answer my prayer, than I am unworthy. Unless I walk as the First Paladin of Yahweh Adonai, I will not lead this cause."”
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +0)
Creighton Burrell
If Yahweh Adonai will not answer my prayer, then I am unworthy. I will not lead this cause unless I walk as His First Paladin.
Creighton remains kneeling, but lowers his head and lets the standard’s shaft rest against the stone. The silver thread trembles, then withdraws into the cloth.
The refusal leaves his breathing uneven and his hands briefly unsteady, a visible weariness of spirit before the warlord, Mira, and the silent court.
Mira Seln
Then you have named the condition of your service, Creighton. You will not counterfeit holiness to command frightened blades.
The Northern Warlord
You refuse the banner’s authority unless your god grants you a station beyond ordinary men. That is refusal, not cowardice, but it leaves the cause without your leadership.
Beyond the barred doors, the armed commoners hear the silence and begin shouting again. Inside, the guards hold their ring around Mira while the black standard hangs inert.
Mira Seln
Stand, if you choose. But do not lift that banner for us until you can do so without claiming a mantle your prayer has not given you.
“I lift my head in prayer one more time. "Lord God, I lift my prayer to you one last time. Make me your chosen Champion and a Paladin divinely imbued with power to serve your cause; otherwise, I will walk away from this summons and return home."”
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +3)
Creighton Burrell
Lord God, I lift my prayer to you one last time. Make me your chosen Champion and a Paladin divinely imbued with power to serve your cause; otherwise, I will walk away from this summons and return home.
The hall becomes utterly still. Silver fire descends through the black standard, winding around Creighton’s arms and sinking into his chest without burning him.
The torn gold device blazes white. A clear sigil appears above Creighton’s brow, and the standard’s weight settles into his grasp as power answers the prayer.
Mira Seln
Then stand, chosen Champion. Your God has given you the mantle you would not counterfeit, and the summons has found its Paladin.
The Northern Warlord
The old laws have witnessed a divine appointment. I name you no servant of my throne, but the standard’s rightful bearer and its declared champion.
Outside, the armed commoners fall silent as the radiance shines beneath the doors. Inside, the court kneels unevenly, while the guards lower their weapons before the transformed standard.
Mira Seln
Lead only where your cause demands, Creighton. Now the power is yours, and every frightened blade beyond these doors will know it.