The Redhats

"I mean, it really is up to you whether you find them more dashing than daft," Celie mused, idly fanning herself as the two men dueled before her and her cousin. "But one must admit that their feathered hats are quite fetching."

The Redhats are a loose network of peace-keeping knights errant in Aragonia. They wander the land, chasing dreams while serving love, honour and glory. A Redhat may have up to three squires at any time, serving the understudies as their Inspiration. Though they have the right to detain criminals, they rarely do so. There is little romantic about apprehending a commons shoplifter. To fight for the honour of their Light as they wander through the murky, confusing ink of life; to protect the common man from the chaos of old; to dash oneself against the rocky bluff of dreams is the melodrama of the Redhat. It is one they embrace with wholehearted earnestness.

For Love

Love is the Redhats' raison detre. All else follows. A Redhat's first task is to find their Light, the one who will guide them through the darkness. Before a Redhat searches for their Light, they must proclaim their will to do so before their Inspiration. A Light is an ideal, something that ennobles the Redhat by shining down on them. A Redhat ever journeys toward their light, knowing that it will remain out of reach.

Their Light is a person with whom the Redhat shares a deep connection, sometimes unrequited, always unfulfilled. It is a rose with thorns; a love to never be consummated. Pain and affection spur the dreaming Redhats ever on. For the Light, the Redhat wages life and limb, and forges the bond into honour.

For Honour

While Redhats usually roam solitary or in small groups, they remain part of a larger organisation. Their fanciful outlook extends to the their organisational obligations. Love is an ennobling force, and it warms like the sun's rays. Those who feel its heat band together beneath the crimson brimmed hats. Through their deeds, they honour the symbol and all those who wear it. A Redhat's Light is a deeply personal matter, but a Redhat's honour is something that must be maintained. Dishonour must be expiated lest its foul touch besmirch the bond between a Redhat and their Light, or the symbol of the red hat.

For nigh on two centuries the feathered red chapeau has served as a symbol of valour, of the storied wanderers who serve love and peace, and ask for nought in return. Love combined with honour brings glory. Love alone is enough, at times, but when it is tainted with malign feelings, it is ignominy that blooms from love's seed rather than its noble cousin.

For Glory

The first Redhats rejected any fame. Their view was that fame might taint their dedication to the men and women they loved. Those who wore the red hats after that first circle saw fame as a vehicle to draw like-minded companions. Glory is not sought by Redhats for glory's sake. Glory is a by-product of a Redhat's deeds and honourable conduct.

For Safety

The Redhats are an impulsive and fanciful lot. The office of Grand Plume is given the unenviable task of administrating the corps. From the Glorious Crimson Tower in Serinissa, the Grand Plume retains records of current Redhats and their squires, of requests to suppress monsters and blackhearts, of complaints and compliments. The Grand Plume's dry and unending work is never done, and has given rise to the saying "better to be poor than a plume."

Redhat Poetry

A common pastime among these knights errant is to create verse dedicated to their Light. As one can imagine, the majority of it is painful to experience. So bad are these ballads that their notoriety has turned humorous. An excerpt of To My Maiden Fair is presented below.

O Light of mine,
Lady fine, to whom I drink this glass of wine,
Your wiggling body haunts my dreams!

A ghost I shall not exorcise, even with great exercise
I yearn for that sweet, sweet touch
But never shall I feel it,
Nor your bosom, which some refer to as your