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Author | An Experience (Thread "New Story" revised) |
An Experience
The year was 1356, and in the territory of East Bay a town by the name of Rinden was awakening. The rooster crowed and the sleepy village awoke to the sound of ringing church bells. Children started on morning chores. Rested guards replaced tired ones. Already the first early birds had gathered in the marketplace.
Lucas Grist, the baker's son, was delivering fresh bread to the lord's house. Outside, the kindly maid let him into the kitchen. Savory aromas arose from the pig on a spit for breakfast. "How’s the bakery doing?" asked the maid?
"Fine," replied Lucas; "we sold a large batch of rye bread to the butcher yesterday."
"Glad to hear it."
Lucas left the house and returned just in time to take out some fritters. Marc, his father, yawned from the doorway, startling Lucas almost till he dropped the hot bunches of sweetness. "Sorry," Marc said. Lucas set the tray on a table and walked past his father, shoving him. "Sorry," he said sarcastically with a smile.
After tending to his chores, Lucas went to the guardhouse. He always enjoyed looking at the tall men with gleaming swords who protected their town, and he wanted someday to join their ranks. Lucas had always wanted to join their ranks someday, leaving the bakery to his brother, younger than him by three years. Lucas was thirteen, anxiously waiting to enter into manhood at sixteen, the traditional age for when one would choose their trade. Baking is just the beginning, he thought.
Lucas hailed one of the guards on the wall. The man came down and engaged Lucas in conversation. "Got any biscuits for me today, Luke?" he asked.
"Nope, but I have a fritter, straight from the oven," replied Lucas to the smiling guard.
"Thanks lad. I get hungry watching all day."
Back at home, Lucas did the rest of his chores, such as chopping wood for the fire and feeding and watering the cow and the horse, and then went to practice (as he saw it) sword fighting with his friend John in their backyard, using wooden swords, of course.
"Lucas," called his mother, "time to come in!" He went inside, and promptly after dinner, consisting of bread, cheddar cheese, vegetable soup, and a rare mango, brought back by some explorer, went to bed.
4 years later...
Get up you, lumps of lard!" shouted the captain. Lucas didn't want to leave his warm bed to do duty on the wall surrounding the town, where the wind bit at ones cheeks. Sighing, he went over to the washstand and splashed his face with cold water. He then pulled on his padded hauberk (a shirt made of inter-locking iron links) and donned his shining helmet. Up on the west wall, he had much time to assess what had occurred since what had occurred since the bakery.
So much had happened. When he was fifteen, a pestilence had swept through the village, killing his entire family, forcing Lucas to sell the bakery to a hopeful young entrepreneur. He then joined the town guard at a young age (sixteen) and turned out to be skilled at the art of swordplay.
Lucas returned his mind to his watch, scanned the surrounding forests quickly, and again sank into a half-sleep. Suddenly, the rustling of bushes caught his eye. Since there was no wind today, not even a breeze, he went down to investigate. Once there, he cautiously moved the bushes apart with his sword, and found...a dead rabbit caught in a trap, still twitching. Disgusted at his curiosity and the strangely mangled rabbit, he turned back to the village gate. "Look out!" shouted another guard on the wall. Lucas turned quickly, slashing with his sword at whatever the guard was warning him about...
The hellhound yelped with pain as Lucas's sword sliced deeply into its side. Flame burst from the cut, and the sword grew so hot that Lucas was forced to drop it. The hellhound kept coming, at a somewhat considerably lower pace. | Lucas drew his dagger, and sending a quick prayer to God, thrust it at the flaming creature. The dagger sank into the dog's eye, hitting its brain and dropping it dead at his feet.
The hellhound's body erupted in smokeless flames and disappeared, leaving a small pile of ashes where its body had lain. Lucas, panting with fear from the fight, quickly retrieved his now cool sword and ran back to the village. Once there, he was surround by a crowd of mixed townsfolk and soldiers. "What was that?" he shouted over the din to anyone who would answer.
The villagers were murmuring among themselves. "A hellhound," came a grave voice. An old man, fat from years of laziness, came out of a small house and hobbled over to Lucas on a particularly long cane. "They come from the underworld, Hell, as you may know it, to hunt on the surface for their masters."
"What is your name, sir?" asked Lucas.
"Rutherbane,” the man replied. He turned quickly for one such as he and disappeared within his hut. Lucas ventured to go inside to inquire more about the hellhound and the underworld but found the door locked. He left to the guardhouse, and lay down on his cot, succumbing quickly to sleep.
Lucas was on guard duty again, this time at night. He and his friend John were stationed above the main gate when a horseman burst out of the forest, pursued by a group of small, strange-looking creatures. The man on horse wore the coat-of-arms of a mercenary, but right now sides didn't matter. The creatures, though small and gangly, were fast, gaining on the tiring horse. They had small wings on their backs with devilish tails.
"Open the gate!" Lucas shouted. The large wooden doors, dotted with metal studs, creaked open slowly. Lucas dashed down the steps of the wall to the ground and ran through the gate and attacked the imps, after moving aside for the horseman. He quickly killed three, and then the remaining four pulled him down. The end was near when John, a bit slower than Lucas, arrived. John slashed and hacked with his sword, killing two, and the remainder ran off into the forest, both severely wounded. They heard the sound of hoof steps and saw the mercenary coming towards them.
Now that that Lucas and John had a closer look, they say that he was wounded deeply. His breath came in gasps, but before the man passed, he managed to say, "Town...under attack...flames!" He slipped off his horse and fell to the ground, unable to keep his balance due to weakness. "Quick! We must take him to a healer," John said.
They picked the man up, only to find, sadly, that he was dead. Lucas looked at John and found John looking at him. What were they to do?
The next day the man was buried in the church graveyard, a bit away from the rest, as he was a mercenary, people who only fought for money, and cared little about what cause they were fighting for. The wound was examined before the burial. It looked to be the result of a severe burn and was afterwards stabbed in the exact place. The wound and the man’s last words baffled the healer and wise men of the village.
Just to be safe, the village leader had taken all supplies possible into the town and sealed the gate with extra beams supporting it. The captain of the guard ordered that bowmen be placed on the walls, and scouts were sent out on fast horses to scan the landscape for any potential enemies. Training for the guards intensified, and everyday all day the villagers could hear the ring of metal on metal, and occasionally the sound of arrows thudding into the straw targets.
Lucas found his days miserable, with the hard work for training, and after that he had to help with the village defenses. He helped the townsfolk dig a large trench around the wall and then line it with fire-hardened stakes. Another trench was built inside the wall, but this one was easily passable, but for the small lump of eart | h on the village-facing side. All these were basic defenses taken by every town and village in the time of war. After the war, if their forces were victorious, the holes and trenches were filled in so merchants and other travelers could pass safely through the village.
The armory was busy, and black smoke billowed out of the chimney and the open doorway. Swords were being made for the village men and daggers for the women if worst came to worst. Arrowheads, spearheads, and axes were also lining the normally empty weapon storage room.
As an extra precaution, a messenger was sent to the main city in the town's area requesting for more troops. Everyone hoped that more men weren’t to be needed, but no one ever knew until that fateful day, when the world turned upside down...
Eric, one of the lower ranked guards, spotted the first glimpse of the enemy army. "Look there!" he shouted to Lucas. Lucas ran along the precarious perch that was the wall to Eric, who was positioned facing south. The sight that met his eyes shocked him till he nearly fell off the wall. Marching in disorganized ranks were hundreds of the small creatures. Behind them came horned monsters, with hooves and mixed with them were more hellhounds. More guards had come and all of them had stood, stunned at what lay before them. And if those first few ranks weren't enough, even more came. Tall creatures, sort of like women, but with curled rams’ horns and flaming hands, stalked through the ranks of the other troops. Horses came galloping along the flanks, but they were dark red and had flaming horns. Even a few huge creatures humans, but with humped backs, irregular muscles, dark red skin, and horns thumped along on all fours, dragging supplies, but by the looks of them they could fight. The entire army looked to be around 5000 troops, compared to the large village garrison of 400 men-at-arms. The villagers couldn't run, as the faster-moving demons had surrounded the village. They were trapped. The only thing to do was to last until help came.
All the gates were closed quickly, and the walls were fully manned by archers with bins stuffed full with arrows and their melee fighter comrades. Prayers were said and men crossed their hearts. Water was dumped on the gates and houses to prevent them catching fire. The demon army formed better ranks, but not well. It seemed to part along the middle. Thundering steps were heard, and the sound of crackling fire. "What is this new fiend?" asked Lucas to Rutherbane softly. The old man had appeared nearly as soon as the army.
"Devils," he replied in a grave tone. Just after he said this, a huge giant appeared over the tops of the trees, bringing fire with him. It was a deep, dark red, the color of blood, with long, curling horns and full armor. A gigantic mace was in his hand, with an outer metal circle and a black cross on the inside. The thing roared, and the army started forward.
"Quick. You must do as I say if you wish to survive," said Rutherbane sharply to Lucas. "Get a large pot of a purple liquid from my hut and bring it here to me. It contains magical properties that only I and some few others can use." Lucas sent a small boy after it, and the lad returned quickly. The archers had begun shooting, but the arrows couldn’t damage the large creatures, only the smaller ones, such as the demons and imps. Rutherbane set the pot down beside himself and used a tiny beaker to scoop some of the solution up and drink it. He shivered and then picked up his staff from where he had set it against the wall. "What are you doing, old man?" asked one of the guards with a scared look, but a mocking tone to his voice.
"Shut up or you will be one of those who dies within the next few seconds," was the curt reply. Rutherbane raised the staff above his head. Immediately the top began twinkling with yellow dots of light. Suddenly, a | huge storm cloud appeared, raining down on the flames and lightning zapping everywhere. The lightning wasn't just in the sky, though. A number of lightning bolts came down and fried large areas of the demon army to a crisp. This happened again and again, but the army seemed unstoppable. "Wow," said Lucas, "I didn't know you were a wizard. I thought the magic-makers were myth."
"It was thought best not tell anyone," said Rutherbane. "Only the village leader and I knew."
Rutherbane told Lucas that the large creatures were called cave demons. One of the monstrosities was advancing toward the village gate. It cast its broken sword up at the sky and back down. A huge fireball erupted from the rusty blade and shot towards the fortified door. An explosion rent the air. Everyone above the gate and within a five-meter radius was killed immediately. Anyone farther out suffered severe burns, except for those far enough away.
As the smoke and dust cleared, the dismayed villagers saw the advancing troops of the demon army pouring in through the blasted gap in the wall.
The guards met them bravely, many a demon and hellhound falling beneath their flashing swords. Even more became pincushions for the archers. But five more demons stood in to take the place of a killed one.
Rutherbane had continued his lightning spell, and now used a different one to better effect. A huge chunk of ice fell from the sky and split into thousands of tiny shards, which flew in all directions, slicing into any flesh in their path. Lucas watched in wonder as the huge demon leader roared in agony, many of these lethal missiles entering his eyes. He charged toward the defenders. His huge mace rose and fell, leaving the guards dead on all sides of him. Lucas saw this carnage and thought quickly. He ran down the wall to the main fighting. Just before he reached the edge and was about to fall, he jumped. As Lucas flew through the air, he thought about his family and how he would join them in Heaven if he failed. He landed with a bone jarring thump on the back of the devil and recovered his senses in time to stab his sword directly into the beast's heart. Convulsions racked the giant, and Lucas slid down his back to the ground, where he began fighting for his life against the mass of creatures. The devil leader erupted in flame, and fell to the ground, crushing human and demon alike. It twitched once, and was still. But that wasn't the end of the battle.
The women-like creatures were throwing small balls of fire from their hands at the remaining guards. Hellhounds were jumping over the defenders and spitting fire from their mouths at the houses. The muscular demons punched and pummeled the brave townsfolk, splitting and cracking bones with each punch. Lucas stabbed a small imp, and spun instinctively around, slashing with his sword. To his amazement Lucas cut a succumbi in half with the sword stroke. He ran back towards the main breach in the wall to help his fellow guards. Finding the captain and a small band of seasoned veterans defending the town hall, he joined them, and together they went on the attack, slashing at everything that came their way. But the demons could not be beat.
The captain took a shot from a succumbi full in the chest and went down. Men were falling all around him, some never getting back up. Lucas, under pressure from three hellhounds, heard a horn call sounding throughout the valley. The sound of hooves came next. Since many of the creatures in the demon army had hooves, many of the villagers lost hope and ran in the opposite direction of the bulk of the demon army, only to be slaughtered by the advancing demon army.
A strange metallic twang was heard, the sound of crossbows firing, and seconds after a large section of the demon army dropped, pierced by small arrows. Cavalry smashed into the right flank of the demons, trampling all those too small to fig | ht back against the huge horses and their masters. The cave demons took the cavalry full on, but the sheer numbers of the horsemen were too much and the giants went down. Strange creatures were flying in the sky, dropping large boulders down onto the faltering enemy. They had the heads of eagles, and the bodies of lions, but the front paws had eagles’ talons. "Yes!" shouted Lucas in elation, for they would survive and win the battle.
The remaining guards and villagers all drew together in a tight formation to fend off encroaching foes, but it wasn't needed. The cavalry charge had obliterated the demons, and the remaining creatures erupted in flame and disappeared. A horseman with a leader's helm trotted up to Lucas. "Where is your leader?" he asked.
"Dead, sadly," replied Lucas. "We had received notice of the demon army some time ago, but no one wanted to leave his home to them, so we fought. Thank goodness you showed up when you did. I had given up all hope."
"Glad to be of assistance," the horseman said. "We got your message about needing reinforcements. By the way, my name is George Lirthen." He dismounted his spirited battle horse to talk to Lucas face to face. "If there are no other leaders or captains, then I am in charge temporarily," he said.
"Fine with me," was the reply.
Preparations were made to repair the village and return life to normal. Lucas, after much experience of savage fighting, wished to leave and join the knights at the overlord's castle. He put this question to George, and he got a positive answer. The next day he was to take a horse and ride to the castle, to give allegiance to the duke.
Just before he got on his horse, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "You don't think you’re leaving the rest of us to this boring life, do you?" asked Rutherbane. Lucas smiled, and together they left, Lucas riding a battle horse, and Rutherbane on a pack pony.
When the duo arrived in Scaker, the capital, they were amazed, for the number of people and guards was stunning. Everyone seemed to be doing many things at once, talking, walking, etc. The banners bearing the coat-of-arms of the overlord flapped gaily in the breeze. The insignia was a lion and on either side of it two crisscrossing swords. Hawkers in the marketplace called out their goods and haggled with customers loudly. Smells arose from the city, from the stink of garbage to the sweet smell from a bakery. "Wow," Lucas gasped.
"Yes, and that's not all of it," replied Rutherbane. The old fellow had seen quite a few cities in his time, though unknown to the townsfolk of Rinden.
The horses' hooves kept a rhythmic beat upon the cobblestone squares. When they arrived at the overlord's house, a groom took the good horses into the stables and waited, until a servant received them.
The large hall inside was decorated with tapestries of all kinds of things, including the seven factions and the types of creatures in them. Lucas went over to the Knight tapestry and gazed in wonder at the Angel there. Rutherbane was occupied too, staring at a good impression of a Titan. "Hem hem." They whirled in surprise, only to see the overlord standing right behind them. "Oh, sorry I startled you," he said nicely.
"What is your name, sir?" asked Lucas.
"Nirell, but you may call me Nir," was the reply. "So, I understand you are here to join my guard," Nirell said after a short pause. "Everyone with the least bit skill is welcome, but we must first see how you are in all the basic training areas, swordplay, horsemanship, and such."
"That will be very good, sir," said Lucas eagerly.
"And what about me?" asked Rutherbane.
"Ah. A wizard. Very handy people to have around you in a time of danger. You may come with me after I show Lucas to hi | | that of the village's. Every soldier had his own platter, cup, and eating utensils, which included only a spoon and knife. A slab of beef, potatoes buttered to perfection, and good vegetables were given to each hungry man. Lucas took his share and poured some ale for himself. He reflected on how his life had changed and decided was good. He took a bite of food, and immersed himself in the flavor. What he wouldn’t give for a good sweet fritter.
I will continue to post more later. For now, just keep looking. Homework is a large problem in preventing me from posting more also.
Copyright 2010 Mojocat. All rights reserved. (heeheehee) | are u n author,quite nice a story son | Maybe you should try writing a book:). | *two thumbs up* go on | excellent work mojocat....
i remember ur works tht u had posted earlier but this one again is mind-boggling. ;) | looking forward to the next one :) luv it | Thanks guys. I could always see where I end up when I finish this and then see how long it is and maybe ask if I could try to publish it as a small book. Maybe about 30 pages. My longest work ever written is 19 large, school-sized papers. I should reduce the size of the book XD. I don't know. THANKS FOR THE COMMENTS EVEYRONE. I will try my best to get more parts, but for now I must do homework. | Hey LWM. Sorry for no parts, but I will give hints of what is to come and some other things concerning the story. For one, I have decided to change the title to "Sweetness and Swordsmanship." And another thing, this is part one. I will start part two ASAP, but it will probably be Saturday. But until then, keep looking! | good work | once again great story Mojocat :)
let me know when you finish another one | PART TWO
Sunlight streamed in through the one window in Lucas' room, pouring onto Lucas. Immediately he snapped his eyes open, but then shut them again for a few minutes rest before the training began. He pulled the sheets off and got ready quickly; rumors were spread about Hother's second side, the sword master whom Lucas was put under to have better, more exact swords training. So far none of the stories seemed true, but one can never know. Lucas grabbed his sack and sword and burst out of the door just in time to stand at attention with the five other talented swordsmen to Hother. He inspected them carefully, then beckoned sharply for them to follow him.
In a battle long ago, a superhumanly fast Dark Elf Shrew had done serious damage to his face in and around his mouth. When he spoke, it was rare and with a horrible rasping sound. The Wizards were able to heal his face, but inside his mouth was too complicated for them to operate their healing spells (I know that no one has healing spells in this, but now they do =D).
The trainees followed the grizzled sword master out into a small courtyard that had become their training area. "We shall begin with the side-hand feint but over-hand final cut. Split into groups and practice. I shall watch, correct, and help the one student left out with a different exercise. We will rotate around. Begin," said Hother with that gurgling rasp.
Hother took Lucas aside and showed how to what Hother called "the swift and deadly." It was actually easier than it sounded, only requiring a feint that wasn't one and then at the last second striking lower than normal for a deep wound. He practiced this several times, and soon had it under control. They rotated, and Lucas showed trouble with the other exercise, but finally was able to complete an OK feint.
He left to go eat a quick loaf of bread, and returned for more training. |
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