21.0

Deep within Castle Blackpool's dungeon, Erik Greystone grimaced in frustration. He had hoped that once he made it inside of the castle, his luck would change. He had just trekked through a week of cold, wet, bone-chilling weather to try to rescue his vassal, Marko. He had expected to find Marko in the dungeon and quickly depart from this dreaded place.

To Erik's dismay, Marko was not being held in the dungeon. Unless he could find his vassal elsewhere in the castle, the trip here would turn out to be wasted time.

Erik's journey north had been unexpectedly difficult. In the past, he could count on the peasants in the Karteian countryside to provide him with food, shelter, and information on Dirk's troop locations. The poor, beleaguered folk were frightened of the madman who ruled their country and did what little they could to support Erik when he was in the area. Or they used to, at least.

Erik was genuinely surprised to discover first-hand the extent to which things had changed in the North. For the first time in generations, the king's soldiers were not beating taxes out of the peasants' hides. Dirk Blackpool was so rich now that it seemed he simply could not be bothered; his soldiers were more useful pillaging the Tronin-Baaldorf borderlands instead.

The northern commoners had become perversely loyal to their king. Now that they were well fed, they were all too eager to send word to Castle Blackpool if they so much as suspected someone had ties to the South.

The peasants new-found love of country disturbed Erik deeply. He found it shocking how short these people's memories were. He heard the way they spoke of Dirk and the new queen, and it made the prince's royal blood run cold. After all the misery Dirk had caused, these peasants now acted as though Dirk was suddenly a hero. They gleefully feasted and toasted their king while the South starved.

"He must have enchanted them all somehow," Erik muttered. It galled the prince that his nemesis was now more beloved by the northern populace than Erik himself was. It seemed all Erik's past victories and heroic deeds now paled compared to Dirk's bribery.

After dragging three unconscious torture trooper guards into a dark alcove to hide them, the good prince paused to ponder his next course of action. He had just gone over every inch of the dank, miserable dungeon looking for Marko.

Erik hoped that Dirk must have hidden Marko somewhere else in the castle, perhaps in one of the towers. Erik straightened his red cloak purposefully. He knew his enemy well enough to suspect that Dirk had taken Marko somewhere to use as bait.

"I have to save Marko," he whispered to himself. The only problem how was to figure out where Dirk was trying to lead him. This castle was enormous, and its hiding places were many.