I was recently able to get this game working again. You have no idea how widely I smiled when I saw that, albeit small, there WERE some Majesty stories here.
So I had a ranger during my playthrough of "Quest for the Holy Chalice". I forget his last name, but his first was Mithrian, and I swear nothing could take him down.
Allies in the Storm
Heavy, fat raindrops assaulted Mithrian Ravenwood's modest hood, pouring down into his vision as he trudged underneath the trees. Thunder crackled in the skies above as the bony branches of the trees clacked and chittered against one another. The storm was growing wilder, and he would need more than just a simple blanket to keep him protected tonight. Darkness had fallen over the kingdom not long after he had set out on one of his many desperate searches. Scouring the uncharted countryside, Mithrian was searching for the resting place of an enchanted item, a blessed chalice.
Tonight was not the best of nights to be searching, but time was of the essence, and the ragged, experienced ranger would not waste a second in looking for the sacred chalice. Monsters had blocked his way, but as the storm grew worse even the hardiest of beasts retreated to their wretched dens. All except for Mithrian Ravenwood were locked safely away; not even the gold-grubbing rogues would prowl this night for stolen luxuries. A fleeting thought crossed Mithrian's mind, wondering, questioning the naturalness of this storm, but the harsh lightning flashed, hindering his vision more than helping, and he was forced to focus his thoughts on keeping his feet centered.
Some windows up ahead appeared to enhance firelight. Mithrian squinted past the rainwater. Even with his fairly good eyesight he could not judge how big and what kind of a building lay ahead. Despite the dangers he knew could leap at him from the disguises of the wild, he made a beeline for it, crossing into open grass. Many great, black stones scattered the hilly landscape, and he kept careful watch of each one, knowing that one or more may unfurl to reveal the muscular body of a hellbear. The building was atop the highest hill in the landscape, and as he approached it Mithrian broke into a long-legged jog until he reached the heavy wooden door.
He began to pound on it with his fist, sounding urgent enough so that the occupants needed to answer, but keeping it soft so that he assured them that he wasn't a threat. It didn't take long for the heavy door to open, and a high-cheeked face to greet him.
"What journey brings you to our door on such a foul-weathered night, o nameless wanderer?"
She was a proud woman, vigilant and strong. Mithrian dipped his head in submission and respect, and repeated, shouting so he could be heard over the noise of the rain.
"I am Mithrian Ravenwood, a ranger of the neighboring kingdom. Tonight, I seek nothing but a place to rest and wait out this storm."
The woman regarded him for a moment, then opened the door to beckon him inside. Mithrian dipped his head again, and stepped inside. The walls and floors were made of sound, gray stone, and the room he stepped into was of considerable size, lit by a great fire on one end. A great, dark wooded table sat in light of the fire, set for six. All around the walls, heads of great slain beasts adorned the walls, accompanying many swords, shields, and family emblems of past, great warriors that had resided here. Curtains hung in front of a room that branched off, sheer enough so that Mithrian could see a modest shrine to the God of Order, Dauros. A set of wooden stairs led to an upper floor, presumably the living quarters. Mithrian stared in small awe at the insides of the building, marveling at how such a sophisticated establishment could be set in the middle of nowhere, with no other buildings to be seen for miles.
Three other women rose up from the table where they were dining, and greeted him solemnly. He bowed, and thanked them for their hospitality. They nodded in turn, and offered him some food. Seasoned roc meat and a rich supply of tasteful ale greeted him as he set his bow and quiver aside to eat. The roc was fresh and tender, expertly cooked, and the draughts of ale smoothly slid down his dry throat, filling the niches that the roc alone could not reach. Once his meal was finished, he thanked the four women, and made it clear that he was in no way against any of the questions they no doubt had. He had a hunch that he had stumbled upon a free, hidden guild of paladins, all women, as was tradition in the name of Dauros. He knew that if he were to tread on their righteous toes that they would waste no time in keeping all of their hawk-like eyes on them until he left the next morning.
"Mithrian Ravenwood, ranger of a neighboring kingdom," the one who answered the door continued, "Tell me, who is this King that rules your kingdom, and why has he only now sent out rangers to this far place?"
Mithrian stroked his rough beard, and rested his hand on the table. The paladins had assumed, perhaps rightfully, that his kingdom was just out of their range. Not even the rogues had ventured here to loot yet. Perhaps they were also rightfully wary of him for traveling in such weather. Either way, he knew they were precursors to questions he wasn't quite keen on answering at the moment.
"She is a Queen, in actuality. Her Highness's range was small, but it is growing rapidly now. She wants the land scouted out, and I am one of Her Majesty's most trusted. We are not looking to conquer, nothing of the sort," He answered. The paladins quite quickly picked up on what little guard he had added to his tone, and piped up immediately after he had finished his last sentence.
"If you are not looking to conquer, then pray tell, what is it that finds you so far from home on such a ghastly night?"
Thunder roared to help delay his answer, but as soon as it died down he spoke up, "I am looking for an item of legend, blessed by the gods. Have you, or have you not heard of the lost Holy Chalice?"
Their eyes narrowed, "Indeed we have, ranger Ravenwood. It has been lost for decades. What will your Queen do with such an enchanted, powerful item?"
Mithrian uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. Dropping all masks and looking at each of them straight in the eyes, his tone dipped low and serious.
"My Queen is very ill. The last I heard, Her Majesty had but twenty days to live before it would consume her. We have invoked the wisdom of every sage we could find, and none knew of the cure. It is an unnatural sickness, an illness cursed upon her by a nameless evil. No cure, save for an item that could cure all. We found this in the Holy Chalice. Power we have no interest in. I have traveled far to this place in search of the Holy Chalice, no matter the weather or monsters," At this, Mithrian untied the arm guard on his left wrist, and pulled up the sleeve to his tunic. A skuzzy, unprofessional bandage wrapped around the torn flesh of his arm, spotted in dark, messy blood and reeking of rot and hastily applied healing herbs, "Here, where a hellbear attacked me one sun ago. I have not returned home to see the healers of Agrela that serve my Queen. This task is much too important."
The paladins stared at his wound, though any emotion or expression they had was carefully shielded. He rolled down his sleeve, but didn't bother to replace his arm guard.
"I am begging you, on my knees, o paladins of Dauros! As you serve the God of Order, I ask you to aid me in my quest. If you know anything, anything about the whereabouts of this Holy Chalice, I, and my kingdom, will forever be in your debt."
The paladins stared at him, then looked to each other. A paladin who had not spoken for the entire conversation stood up. She looked to be older, more experienced than the others, and her eyes shone with a determined light as she bowed to him.
"Mithrian Ravenwood. It is my judgment that there is nothing but truth in your words, and as paladins of Dauros, we will assist you in your search. Nay," Her eyes softened compassionately though there was a steel fire burning behind them—a fire that Mithrian could tell was never doused, "We will join together underneath your Queen to find this artifact. Never in our lifetimes have we seen one so truly loyal to another, royalty or otherwise. Come. Rest, Mithrian Ravenwood, and in the bright morrow we shall speak about the Holy Chalice, and aid thee further."
The ragged ranger gratefully accepted the practiced healing spells the paladins offered him, and with a fresh bandage on his arm he climbed into bed. The storm outside died down to a whisper, and the clouds parted for the morning dawn as he and four paladins set out into the corners of the undiscovered countryside, following the prayers of Dauros until they found the Holy Chalice.