Sir Jandy's Tale

Sir Jandy of Brenmark’s tale, “The Wishing Well of Kingfisher”

In the last days of the war of freedom, all the great knights were gathered, and what already existed was made formal. The Order of Maj Hraegar was born. The great knights swore oaths of brotherhood to protect each other in time of need. My great great grandfather, Holgar, was there, as was my great grandfather as his squire. But this tale does not involve them.

In the center of Kingfisher, there is a large well, deep and broad. In these days, the well did not boast the grand iron horseman that watches over it, gazing away to the south west. That well has provided for the the people of Kingfisher through many a dry season. It had* been the custom of the locals for centuries to throw an offering, a small coin or some such, into the well on the morning of the winter solstice along with their wishes for the new year.
There was still a small group of men-at-arms in Kingfisher. The campaign season was long over, and great events were transpiring in the halls of the Iron Lord.

But with snow already upon the ground, a host marched out of Whrotgate, its eyes upon the town of Kingfisher.

At the end of summer, it seemed to all that we had won our freedom. Good spirits filled the air, and the mugs of men. Ale clouded the eyes of the watch, and if not for a diligence of shepherd boy**, the men of Whrotgate would have taken Kingfisher completely unaware.
Riders were sent in the dead of night with the message of the treacherous attack. In town, the people were armed though most had seen too many seasons – or too few.

My great great grandfather’s first born son, my great grand uncle, Tyron had remained behind with his mother. When the messenger reached him, he assembled the knights he could, and they rode out to provide relief to Kingfisher.
The arrived at Kingfisher on the Queen’s Night. The dogs of Whrotgate had already breached the walls of Kingfisher. Tyron and his men charged the camp of the Whrotgate command, and in the first pass slew their captain. All night through the town, Tyron and his men fought. By the time the darkness began to fade, there were none left to attack the town. Nor were there any left to defend it. The last of the fighting had taken place in the town square.
My great grand uncle lay dying – he knew he would not survive his wounds. As the sun broke the horizon, he chose to make a wish***, but he would give no small offering. Tyron threw himself into the well****. The men of Whrotgate have not threatened Kingfisher since that time.

Notes:

  • Now the custom is a large exchange of offerings, called the “Kingfisher Swap” where town’s folk exchange their offerings, knowing that the best wishes will be fulfilled by each other.
    • The shepherd boy and his descendants have served the noble line of Brenmark since that time.
      • Nobody knows what the actual wish was.
        • Tyron’s actual grave is among those of the rest of his family. Only his armor was thrown into the well as an offering.

Sir Jandy's Tale

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