The Crimson Bells

A solemn night crept over the town of Hearthborne. A cold night that was calm yet bitter. The falling snow masked the pain of the town. Soldiers walked the streets scaring the freshly fallen snow with their wretched footfalls. Each boot falling upon the plain white surface ensuring that none would forget their presence.

Nearly a month had passed since the Karutian forces came and occupied the town by force. Coming in the night and met with the meager resistance of the night watch. They were ruthless in their assault. Coming down upon the cluster of stone buildings with all the fury any other men would have reserved for a mighty fortress. Any who opposed their will fell before them with ease, and any who could oppose them were locked away.

Near the center of town, within the walls of a modest home came the crying of a small child. The little one did not understand the complications that her family now faced. She wondered where her father had gone and why her mother would say no word of him. She wondered why these men in armor suits had locked their church and forbid them from celebrating the upcoming holiday. To rob a child of parent and traditions without reason was a heartless and cowardly act. One that did not go unnoticed.

Beneath the floorboards of the house cramped in a small crawl way and bundled in rough and tattered blankets lay four knights. Injured in the defense of the town, they had been hidden away to tend to their wounds and spare their lives from the Karution wrath. As outsiders in this town, they considered themselves blessed to have found such kindness in their host and savior. A widowed woman who's only solace in her grieving hour but to tend to those that needed her.

The four men belonged to a kingdom's army who now camped but a few miles away. Blocking any escape for the karutians. A siege was planned in the belief that the townsfolk had been slain. For near a month the karutians had comfortably survived on the stored supplies while the town went hungry on pathetic rationed meals.

The silent weeping of a child above them pulled at the hearts of the knights. Their gazes slowly drifted around the crawlspace. Each meeting the others eye to eye one by one. In this moment a collective understanding was reached and without word they each knew what they should do. What they knew they had to do. Plagued still by their own aches, pains and injuries they stirred themselves to action. Rising from their comfortable bundles, silently donning what armor and weapons they had.

Their kind host rose with a start from her seat upon her daughter's bed as the men climbed from the safety of the cellar. With awe she stared at them as their armor glimmered in the candlelight a stern look of dedication on their faces. Their eyes all aglow with something more than the flicker of the flame. In those eyes was a blaze from within that brought tears to the woman's eyes. She knew what they intended and all too well understood what fate would befall them. The briefest of moments was spent to wrap each men in the warm embrace of a grateful hug. They had all the time they needed, but the task ahead was not one to dwell upon long. They turned to the door and gathered about it. Youngest of the nights giving the child a smile and a nod. In an instant the warmth of the home was gone and the bitter cold of the streets breezed past them, chilling the family.

Outside the clank and creak of armor was lost in the night as the falling snow muffled all sound. They wiped clean their tracks from the doorway as to not lead the karutions to their origins. Deep breaths all around and off they went in a sprint stopping briefly at each corner to peer about for the enemy. A cry shot out in the night, cut short by a gloved hand cupped over the mouth. Teeth bit into leather and flesh as sword sank deep into flesh. A knight stood with hand cupped over his enemies face, silencing him. A sword impaling the victim, ensuring a slow death. The knight made no move and grasped this fiend with all his might. When all was over the snow stained a deep red and a Karutian lay dead.

They would be discovered soon but it mattered not, for their objective lay just ahead. An impressive stone building with arching doorways and two tall towers. A holy place that the heathen Karutians had ordered locked away from all. Upon the steps of the church stood a patrol of soldiers ensuring that this would be no simple task. Swords drawn and shoulders squared they charged the gates, crashing upon the enemy with surprise on their side. A Karutian fell by sword, his own diving deep into the chest of a knight. The first casualty of the four had come quickly but the others just fought on with ferocity.

Mere seconds were all that was needed to decide the battle and now the steps belonged to them. Karutians are not slack in their patrols though and more were fast on their way. With intense beating the doors to the church flew wide and in rushed the knights. Followed closely by several karutians, threatening to overrun them. Glances all around said their goodbyes as formalities took time they had not. They broke ways and one knight sprinted for the tower, the others standing ground to aid his escape.

The spiraling staircase tasked the tired and hurt knight. His lungs burned and the breaths of cold air came short and thin. Behind him the sounds of battle gave way to silence and then to chase. The karutians had finished his brothers in arms and would be upon him any moment. He entered the tower, slamming the door behind him and barring it with his sword. The thunk of blades on wood came from the door, soon followed by splintering. As they continued to beat down the door the lone knight took grasp of the ropes dangling in the center of the room. With all his might he heaved downward on them and a round clang rang out. he continued over and over as the bell tower rang into the countryside.

Miles away as they made camp for the long siege ahead, the faint ring of church bells was heard by the army of knights. Some did not notice, some looked up with wonder. The commander however turned his gaze upwards from his table where he made ready plans. A face as white as the snow and an expression that no man could read. He rose to his feet and stared at the distant town as the bells rang on and on. Others began to gather around murmurs began to go up around the camp. No Karutian would ring the bells of a church they despise. Then, just as the troops were becoming accustomed to the sound it ceased. The bells had been silenced and all across the camp a silence fell. An eerie moment of silence that was then broken. A cry rang out across the camp issued forth from the commander "Break camp! Tonight we march on Hearthborne!".

To this day Hearthborne reserves this night as a holy time. The night of the Crimson bells.