Had it not been for his sense of duty to his lordship Galthmeir would have probably called it folly to venture on such a mad quest. Though many had seen it as a chance for a holy relic of great importance to strengthen his kings weakened forces, many had said it was futile to search for such a thing. He was just one of many knights sent to find this relic. Surely not even he hoped to find it. Galahad had more luck he was pure of heart after all, but Galthmeir, a barbarian from Ira find the Holy Grail…absurd. Even if he was an honorable man as Uther had told his Merlin before his passing he was still of the old ways.
Nevertheless it was Merlin himself that trusted Galthmeir for his sense of loyalty to his king and the recent events of Lancelot and Guinivere's betrayal of his lordship wieghed heavily on the kings shoulders. It was said he had been struck down by God himself and made ill but few believed that and with Merlin gone their string of advice was anulled as well. The wizard could no longer show them guidance…the Knights of the Round Table were on their own and neither the king had the will or strength to guide them.
Galthmeir brought his horse to a stop and stared at the vast expanse of desert that seemed to stretch for miles without end in sight. It crept into his mind like his growing despair that the more he searched, the weaker his kingdom became. He should be back there, defending his king. However it was Arthur Pendragon himself that entrusted him with this quest, along with nearly 40 other knights who dared to dream of finding the Holy Grail. He had wondered if any of his brethren had found it already and were forcing their way back to help their ailing king. Arthur had told Galthmeir to search until he found it or die trying and he obeyed his lord. He would continue to search until death came to claim him. It may have been hopeless…but it was all he had.
The local desert people had told him that near or nothing lay beyond the desert and those that did venture there were never seen nor heard from again. From what tales he had learned the desert goes on for many miles in every direction. If one manages to survive the deserts hot breath they will find mountains so tall one could touch God upon them, if they live to survive the harsh cold and there were tales of demons beyond the mountains that killed on sight any transgressor. It had been the only land that had not been searched, thus Galthmeir knew his task: venture east as far as his will let him and find the Holy Grail.
Motioning his steed to motion he looked back again at the long expanse of desert behind him then to the desert that lay before him. Taking a jug of water the young knight took a long drink, letting the cool water quench his parched throat. Taking in the last few remnants of the soothing liguid, he began his long trek to the east once more. No doubt not even his steed would last the journey but at least it would take him far enough to tread the rest of way afoot…given he would live that long.
Huang Zhongs eye upon the horizon near coupled that with his bow, watching the long distant arrow strike soundly upon the target in the distance. The private who had placed the target along the try line waved the white flag back signaling a bullseye. The old man let his arm fall away and smiled vainly to Zhao Yun who shook his head in disbelief.
"Well young one," he replied, "let's see you do any better."
"Very well Huang Zhong you have made your point," said the young man, "I merely said there maybe those that could surpass even your skill with a bow."
"I have yet to see that," said the old man, "but I didn't say that I was invincible."
"Of course," Zhao Yun said with a smirk. The old man turned away as Zhao Yun waved the private to return to the castle.
"Any word from our lord in Jing?" Zhao Yun asked. The old man merely snorted in disgust.
"Nothing yet," he replied, "this bad blood with Wu certainly has him on edge most likely…that and Guan Yu's death has made him quite bitter."
"No doubt of that," Zhao Yun replied, "still we should focuss our attention on Cao Cao still."
"Wei can wait it seems," said Huang Zhong, "or at least that is what Zhuge Liang has decided."
"Might as well prepare I suppose for the worst I-," Zhao Yun was saying then he stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes staring out into the distance. The old man looked at him puzzled thus turned to see what he stared at. In the distance they could make out a lone figure walking…no walking…more like staggering toward the castle. He was clad in armor that Zhao Yun had never seen before; it seemed to gleem in the sunlight with an eerie glow that almost made the young man look like Prefect of Heaven itself. It was clear that the young man was hurt, clutching his left arm he noticed a stream of blood running down the length of his of his armor. Surely Zhao Yun could see he needed help. Huang Zhong however was compelled otherwise as he picked up his bow and threaded an arrow along the shaft, taking dead aim at the iron clad man. He was about to fire when Zhao Yun stopped him.
"Huang Zhong what are doing!" said the young man, "can't you see he's hurt?!"
"He's a foriegnor," said the old man, "I've met them before and it is better to kill them before they claim a foothold here."
"He is one man not an army," Zhao Yun shot back, "clearly you can see he does not have the strength to defend himself."
"All the easier to kill him now," said the old man, "now step aside in my shot."
At that the young man placed himself in front of the old archer, blocking his view of the iron clad man.
"I will not let you kill someone in cold blood," Zhao Yun seethed, "not even a foreignor."
"By the gods you're to noble for your own good young buck!" Huang Zhong rasped. Then the old man lowered his bow and stared behind him. Zhao Yun looked back to see the young man in iron was gone.
"Now look what you've done," Huang Zhong said, "he's probably attacking the peasents in the courtyard now."
"Do you hear any signs of combat below Huang?" Zhao Yun asked doubtfully.
"No I don't," Huang Zhong shot back, "but that doesn't make him less dangerous."
"Lord Zhao Yun," a corporal suddenly announced running up the steps, "a strange man in iron has walked into the courtyard."
"You see," said the old man, he then turned to the corporal, "how many has he killed?"
"Killed my lord?" said the underling, "none. He seems to be heading toward the exit now paying no heed to anyone around."
"You…you mean he's just ignoring everyone?" Zhao Yun asked.
"Yes my lord," said the corporal, "he seems to be gravely injured."
He had come this far only to find an arrow slow him down. He didn't even see it coming but felt the wretching pain his left arm. Half starved and near death he had forged a path on his own through the vast desert. His horse died along the way thus he took to the unknown path on foot. Blazing a trail through the vast mountains he finally came upon the demon lands only to find a gate baring his way. He would've known the Grail was here but nothing could be felt nor seen. Just an odd looking castle with two figures atop. They seemed to be arguing with each other as he made his way past the gates, the guards there staring at him as if carried a giant scorpion on his back. He payed them no heed for his task was beyond them. Staggering toward the other end of the castle he could hear the alien tongue of the people here and had wished he had learned more of it. He understood some but not all and wondered what they were planning. Even if they conspired to kill him it was meaningless. Even such would finally bring an end to this never-ending journey. Any kind of rest Galthmeir would openly embrace in this present time, but as long as he still drew breath he would continue on, even if he had to crawl.
Approaching the castles eastern gate he suddenly stopped to a sword pressed keenly against his throat. Nursing his wounded arm he backed up to see an elderly man with long with hair and flowing white beard. The man spoke and what little Galthmeir could make out was the old man demanded why his presence was just. He at least knew some of the language so he could respond.
"Name…Galthmeir," he spoke, "I knight from far." From what more he could make out the old man demanded him to leave. Galthmeir couldn't respond to that for his task was to great to be halted by an old man. He had no sooner had he began trying to walk past him when a younger emerged from a flight of stairs and barred his way. Speaking the same tongue Galthmeir watched his lips in growing confusion, shaking his head not knowing what to say. Then one the guardsman suddenly announced something and both the old man and young warrior turned to the front gate to see an entourage approaching. Galthmeir could see 3 lone figures utop horses. One was young man with a strange headress and long spear prone in his hand. The other on the far right looked even more odd. He wore a strange green turban with a fan held against his breast. The other between the two seemed younger than the latter and Galthmeir could see the sword of nobility at his side. No doubt he was a leader of sorts when the young man and older gentleman bowed to him in greeting. Again a cocofiny of words he did not understand filled the air, as they all seemed to be directed at him. In that moment Galthmeir knew his time was near an end: they were going to kill him. Solemnly he stood there, awaiting his fate.
The one with strange turban thus dismounted and motioned the old man and the latter to step aside. Galthmeir was to heavily wounded to fight nor care anymore as the man approached him.
"You're far from home," said the man in a tongue that he recognized. Galthmeir looked up at him in surprise and spoke.
"Goes without question my liege," he answered, "the trail never seems to end."
"All travels have a beginning and an end," said he, "what are doing here in this land?"
"I…I search for something," Galthmeir replied.
Zhuge Liang knew the poor boy was close to passing. Deathly pale and nearly struggling to hold himself he found it a wonder he had the strength to stand at all. He was young, the strategist could see, with dark hazel eyes and long black hair bound in a ponytail. His armor gleamed dispite the grime and his own lifeblood tarnishing the finish. It had been some time since he had seen their like in these lands before.
"Where do you come from?" Zhuge asked. The young man drew himself up, trying in vain to seem stronger.
"From the islands to the far west," he said, "took ship for the main land…I don't know how long ago."
"You mean Gauls?" asked Zhuge. The young knight shook his head.
"No," said he, "farther than that."
"You have indeed come quite a ways," Zhuge replied, "but why?"
"I search for something," said the young man, "A holy relic."
"I've heard of this," Zhuge Liang replied, "the messiahs cup or something."
"You are well informed," the young knight replied, "I search for the Holy Grail."
"Then you are on a quest," said Zhuge. The young man nodded half-heartedly.
"Yes my liege," he said, "so now you see. Please let me pass…I must complete my task."
"Not in your condition you're not," Zhuge returned, "you're injured and need rest."
"But…my liege…my quest," objected the young man. Zhuge held up a hand to silence him.
"Can wait until you are stronger," Zhuge Liang replied, "until then…rest." The knight sigh grudgingly and nodded. Zhuge Liang turned to Liu Bei.
"My lord," he said, "please see to it he is well taken care of."
"I will," Liu Bei replied, "however he is a foriegnor. Is it best to give him comfort?"
"He's not a warrior," Zhuge replied, "he's on a quest in search of something. We must aid him in any way we can." The Shu lord was reluctant at first then nodded his head.
"Very well," Liu Bei said, "except we do not know his name." Zhuge nodded and turned back to the knight, saying a few a words in the mans unknown tongue. The knight answered and Zhuge Liang turned back to his lord.
"His name is Galthmeir," Zhuge replied, "Son of MacMaghn."
