Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story - Update 3 is up
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Flameslash
- Posts: 633
- Joined: December 21st, 2008, 12:29 pm
Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story - Update 3 is up
So, I suppose I should explain a bit about this story before I post it. I first posted this story almost three years ago under another account (AtemTheLIghtning) almost three years ago, but it's evolved a lot since then. I've also grown and matured a lot since then, and I hope my writing skills have done so too. This story is set in a world I've been making card games with my friends about since sometime in 2009, and I have recently started really fleshing out that setting. (I've got a bit posted on the GitP forums here.) I've tried to make some major changes to the black and white morality of the previous version of this story, and tell the tale of a group of unlikely heroes who I really want to flesh out and give personalities. This group of heroes will need to rescue a fabled guard captain from a goblin prison so he can rally the guard and hold off the goblins. Without any further ado, I give you:
Tales of Galamar - The Defence of Scarlia Crag
The sun was halfway through it's daily journey through the sky, and a young man named Artem was being trained to use a sword in a forest clearing far below the giant ball of fiery gas. His white shirt contrasted vastly with his messy black hair and thin, pale face. His blue eyes gleamed in a similar way to his training sword as he examined the way the sunlight reflected off of the blade. His trainer, a fifty year old veteran and leader of the town guard, stood ten meters from the young man, his captain's helmet placed proudly upon his head. His steel armour was battered slightly, and the dark iron cross on his right shoulder signified him as a high ranking warrior.
"Are you ready to begin your training, Artem?" asked the Captain.
"Yes, Captain Jirin, sir!" Artem replied enthusiastically, raising his training sword.
"No need to call me sir, Artem." Captain Jirin said.
"Ok, sorry, Captain." the younger man apologised.
"That is fine. Now, see that dummy?" asked Captain Jirin, gesturing to a training dummy made of bags of dirt and gravel, thick sticks, and a face painted onto the uppermost bag.
"I do, Captain!" Artem said.
"Grasp the sword firmly with both hands and swing it at the dummy. Try to cut it's arm off." Captain Jirin ordered.
Artem replied with his actions and tightened his grip on the sword, then he swung it in an overhead arc and brought it down on the dummy's 'shoulder'. The blade bounced off and upwards.
"You need to raise it less high and bring it down in a more controlled way, I believe." the Captain commented.
Artem tried again, raising his sword to about half the height he had before, and hacking down diagonally. The dummy's arm was cleaved right in half.
"Good, good. Now try to cut it's chest open." Captain Jirin said while nodding.
Artem did so on his first try, and a cloud of dirt burst out of the gash he tore in the dummy. A few dozen bits of gravel and a lot of dirt spilt out, making a dirty pile on the fresh grass beneath the dummy.
"Making a mountain!" Artem yelled, a reference to the old folk tale where gods made the world by cutting up giants, and their chests became mountains.
"Now make a meteor." Captain Jirin said, referring to the same folk tale, but to the part where the giants' heads became meteors.
Artem used the same move, and cut a diagonal line from the middle of the dummy's wooden neck to an inch below where the severed arm once was. The 'meteor' crashed down to the left of it's creator.
"Good work Artem, you're a natural." Captain Jirin said, "Now let's see how you do in a fight."
Captain Jirin drew his training sword, and Artem attacked as fast as he could, hoping to catch Captain Jirin off guard. However, he failed in that and his attack was knocked aside. The Captain brought his knee shooting up into Artem, and the younger man doubled over. Captain Jirin backed away and Artem tried again, swinging for the captain's helmet. The Captain blocked and went for another kneeing, but Artem was faster and the Captain found Artem's sword at the back of his neck. He quickly dropped and sliced at his trainee's legs. Artem cried out and stumbled back, and the trainer slammed his sword hilt into Artem's head. Atem fell to his knees and dropped his sword.
"You fight too aggressively, Artem, and don't leave a way to defend yourself." Captain Jirin said as Artem sat up, groaning and rubbing his head.
They trained for a few more hours and Artem learnt to block and the basics of when to do so, and also how to use momentum to add force to his attacks. Artem persuaded Captain Jirin into one final fight before they returned to their home village of Scarlia Crag.
Artem started the fight by charging then leaping through the air and bringing his sword down hard. The Captain blocked but was forced to stagger back and Artem took the chance to launch an attack on Captain Jirin's shoulder. It didn't get through the shoulder pad but did keep Captain Jirin off balance. The trainee's next attack, however, was parried and Captain Jirin drove Artem back with a series of swipes and thrusts which the younger man struggled to avoid and block all of. Artem went for a kick but the Captain caught his trainee's leg and threw Artem to the ground.
"Never use kicks." Captain Jirin concluded, "Now, let us return to Scarlia Crag."
The pair began the hike to Mount Scarlia, the mountain Scarlia Crag was built upon. They made their way through the forest, stepping over fallen trees and jumping over streams one minute, ducking under low branches the next. Rays of sunlight penetrated the leaf cover, illuminating their path.
They were barely 500 feet from the end of the forest when they spotted a group of 5 foot tall, green skinned goblins shooting up a tree incredibly fast, clearly trying to avoid being seen. Goblins had been peaceful hunters until the humans and dwarves of Scarlia Crag started expanding into the forest. The goblins started attacking Scarlians to keep them out of their territory, and a war had started.
Atem drew his training sword and Captain Jirin his steel sword. The Goblins yelled war cries and leapt down from the trees, short, curved knives wielded in their hands. One landed with it's feet on Artem's face and the young man went down hard. The other goblins surrounded Captain Jirin and one threw a jagged red crystal at him. He locked up and toppled over, his sword landing on the ground beside his trainee. Two of the goblins started to drag him away, but Artem got up and went for them. Another goblin charged Artem from the side and the human was forced to turn and block a blow. He quickly rammed his sword through the goblin's chest, and acidic blood burst out, stinging Artem's hands. Artem cursed and blocked another goblin's attack, then barged into the attacker and sent him tumbling away. He looked to where the goblins had dragged Captain Jirin away from, but they were already almost 60 feet away, and with the help of two more goblins, moving faster than Artem could sprint. Goblins were very fast when they wanted to be.
Tales of Galamar - The Defence of Scarlia Crag
The sun was halfway through it's daily journey through the sky, and a young man named Artem was being trained to use a sword in a forest clearing far below the giant ball of fiery gas. His white shirt contrasted vastly with his messy black hair and thin, pale face. His blue eyes gleamed in a similar way to his training sword as he examined the way the sunlight reflected off of the blade. His trainer, a fifty year old veteran and leader of the town guard, stood ten meters from the young man, his captain's helmet placed proudly upon his head. His steel armour was battered slightly, and the dark iron cross on his right shoulder signified him as a high ranking warrior.
"Are you ready to begin your training, Artem?" asked the Captain.
"Yes, Captain Jirin, sir!" Artem replied enthusiastically, raising his training sword.
"No need to call me sir, Artem." Captain Jirin said.
"Ok, sorry, Captain." the younger man apologised.
"That is fine. Now, see that dummy?" asked Captain Jirin, gesturing to a training dummy made of bags of dirt and gravel, thick sticks, and a face painted onto the uppermost bag.
"I do, Captain!" Artem said.
"Grasp the sword firmly with both hands and swing it at the dummy. Try to cut it's arm off." Captain Jirin ordered.
Artem replied with his actions and tightened his grip on the sword, then he swung it in an overhead arc and brought it down on the dummy's 'shoulder'. The blade bounced off and upwards.
"You need to raise it less high and bring it down in a more controlled way, I believe." the Captain commented.
Artem tried again, raising his sword to about half the height he had before, and hacking down diagonally. The dummy's arm was cleaved right in half.
"Good, good. Now try to cut it's chest open." Captain Jirin said while nodding.
Artem did so on his first try, and a cloud of dirt burst out of the gash he tore in the dummy. A few dozen bits of gravel and a lot of dirt spilt out, making a dirty pile on the fresh grass beneath the dummy.
"Making a mountain!" Artem yelled, a reference to the old folk tale where gods made the world by cutting up giants, and their chests became mountains.
"Now make a meteor." Captain Jirin said, referring to the same folk tale, but to the part where the giants' heads became meteors.
Artem used the same move, and cut a diagonal line from the middle of the dummy's wooden neck to an inch below where the severed arm once was. The 'meteor' crashed down to the left of it's creator.
"Good work Artem, you're a natural." Captain Jirin said, "Now let's see how you do in a fight."
Captain Jirin drew his training sword, and Artem attacked as fast as he could, hoping to catch Captain Jirin off guard. However, he failed in that and his attack was knocked aside. The Captain brought his knee shooting up into Artem, and the younger man doubled over. Captain Jirin backed away and Artem tried again, swinging for the captain's helmet. The Captain blocked and went for another kneeing, but Artem was faster and the Captain found Artem's sword at the back of his neck. He quickly dropped and sliced at his trainee's legs. Artem cried out and stumbled back, and the trainer slammed his sword hilt into Artem's head. Atem fell to his knees and dropped his sword.
"You fight too aggressively, Artem, and don't leave a way to defend yourself." Captain Jirin said as Artem sat up, groaning and rubbing his head.
They trained for a few more hours and Artem learnt to block and the basics of when to do so, and also how to use momentum to add force to his attacks. Artem persuaded Captain Jirin into one final fight before they returned to their home village of Scarlia Crag.
Artem started the fight by charging then leaping through the air and bringing his sword down hard. The Captain blocked but was forced to stagger back and Artem took the chance to launch an attack on Captain Jirin's shoulder. It didn't get through the shoulder pad but did keep Captain Jirin off balance. The trainee's next attack, however, was parried and Captain Jirin drove Artem back with a series of swipes and thrusts which the younger man struggled to avoid and block all of. Artem went for a kick but the Captain caught his trainee's leg and threw Artem to the ground.
"Never use kicks." Captain Jirin concluded, "Now, let us return to Scarlia Crag."
The pair began the hike to Mount Scarlia, the mountain Scarlia Crag was built upon. They made their way through the forest, stepping over fallen trees and jumping over streams one minute, ducking under low branches the next. Rays of sunlight penetrated the leaf cover, illuminating their path.
They were barely 500 feet from the end of the forest when they spotted a group of 5 foot tall, green skinned goblins shooting up a tree incredibly fast, clearly trying to avoid being seen. Goblins had been peaceful hunters until the humans and dwarves of Scarlia Crag started expanding into the forest. The goblins started attacking Scarlians to keep them out of their territory, and a war had started.
Atem drew his training sword and Captain Jirin his steel sword. The Goblins yelled war cries and leapt down from the trees, short, curved knives wielded in their hands. One landed with it's feet on Artem's face and the young man went down hard. The other goblins surrounded Captain Jirin and one threw a jagged red crystal at him. He locked up and toppled over, his sword landing on the ground beside his trainee. Two of the goblins started to drag him away, but Artem got up and went for them. Another goblin charged Artem from the side and the human was forced to turn and block a blow. He quickly rammed his sword through the goblin's chest, and acidic blood burst out, stinging Artem's hands. Artem cursed and blocked another goblin's attack, then barged into the attacker and sent him tumbling away. He looked to where the goblins had dragged Captain Jirin away from, but they were already almost 60 feet away, and with the help of two more goblins, moving faster than Artem could sprint. Goblins were very fast when they wanted to be.
Last edited by Flameslash on February 19th, 2013, 10:03 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Flameslash
- Posts: 633
- Joined: December 21st, 2008, 12:29 pm
Re: Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story
Sorry for the double post, but my mac has severe crashing issues and won't let me post the whole thing at once... Plus, some reserved space might be useful, right?
ON WITH THE STORY
"Surrender, human." yelled a 5 and a half foot tall goblin with a dark red cloak and shortsword.
Artem attacked the goblin who was clearly a leader, ignoring it's four allies. He batted it's sword into the ground then brought hiss sword arcing back up, slicing through it's nose. It hissed and staggered back and the other goblins threw spears as one. Artem hit the dirt and the spears clipped the top of his head.
The young man leapt up and saw a goblin in deep red armour approach. The armour glinted in the sunlight, spikes emerging from likely grab places, and a medium length sword was in it's hand. A war banner was clasped in the other. Two more cloaked goblins flanked him.
Artem grabbed one of the small goblins and threw it into it's buddy, then scooped up his sword and charged the armoured goblin., after taking off the heads of the surprised, unarmed goblins. Artem blocked a sword swing, only to be shoved ruthlessly back by the war banner. The cloaked goblins both leapt at Artem, who dodged to the side and swung for one's neck. He missed, but only slightly. A severed goblin arm fell to the forest floor.
"You humans come into goblin land, walk where you are not allowed on holy ground, and-" the armoured goblin growled before Artem cut him off with a sword blow, which was hastily blocked.
The two fought for a few seconds, and Artem got a nasty gash across his forehead. The young human had an idea and swept the goblin's legs out from under him. He raised his sword for the kill, but was tackled by a cloaked goblin. His sword landed uselessly a good five meters away, and the Goblin stabbed Artem's shoulder. Artem called upon his natural human magic, and blasted the goblin off of him. It slammed into a tree trunk and didn't get up. He used what little magic he had left to heal his shoulder, and the blue glow that was created by his magic faded from where it had been shining around his eyes.
"You have use your magic now, human." the armoured goblin taunted, "Now you can not win."
"We'll see about that, goblin scum!" Artem yelled as he brought his fist crashing down on the goblin, who barely managed to stay upright.
The goblin's sword and war banner fell to the ground, and the trainee human grabbed them and hacked down at his foe. It's armour was cleaved open in an ugly gash, and it's face met a hard wooden war banner.
"You will not kill holy Kan, human." growled the cloaked goblin whose nose he'd cut apart.
Artem span around just too slow to block the sword, and it sunk deep into his chest. He screamed and threw the goblin off of him, hurling his sword at it for good measure. Blood poured from Artem's wound as he ran away, scooping up the captain's sword on the way. He felt his magic return as the enchanted sword entered his hand, and used it to seal his wounds and numb the pain as well as he could.
The light glared into his blue eyes as he emerged from the forest, an angry cloaked goblin and small horde of reinforcements on his heels. Goblins were faster than humans, so Artem needed to find a way to escape them, and fast. The sword was regenerating it's magic refreshing power, but not fast enough. As he ran, the human inspected the war banner, checking for runes - human magic captured in limited use symbols. He saw one, and with no idea what it did, tapped it and waved the banner backwards, hoping to slow the goblins down. Unfortunately for Artem, the rune actually just empowered the goblins. Artem had just reached the outlying farmland around Scarlia Root when he decided he might as well give up.
"Attack!" yelled a human voice from not far away.
Artem glanced over to see Sergeant Ronir of the Scarlia Crag guard and several others guards charging towards him and the goblins. The two sides clashed and the sounds of battle started piercing Artem's ears. A few fireblasts roared through the air, louder than everything else in the battle; Artem spotted a guard mage on the other side of a nearby farm fence. Mages were the only humans who harnessed their magic rather than unleashing it only once or twice a day. Artem smiled as a goblin went flying a few dozen feet into the air and smashed hard into the farm fields in front of Artem with a sickening crack. Two more quickly followed it, and the three were then set on fire and used as makeshift magical artillery. Artem leapt into the melee, Captain Jirin's sword arcing down into an unsuspecting goblin. A goblin wielding a spear charged the human trainee, who used the small amount of magic that had regenerated to trip the goblin. It didn't get the chance to stand back up. Ever.
"He was my brother!" another goblin yelled at Artem, who attacked it quickly.
The goblin blocked with it's huge dagger, and then headbutted Artem in the chest. The goblin then jumped and stabbed. Artem barely managed to knock the blow away from his heart, and it pierced into the side of his chest instead. The goblin dropped back down and slashed through Artem's knee. The young man would have been slain there had it not been for a timely intervention by Sergeant Ronir. The guard sergeant's spear burst through the goblin's chest at the last moment, and Artem staggered away from the fight. The mage saw him and waved his hand to heal the wounded youth, who sat out of the rest of the battle, his wounds not fully healed.
ON WITH THE STORY
"Surrender, human." yelled a 5 and a half foot tall goblin with a dark red cloak and shortsword.
Artem attacked the goblin who was clearly a leader, ignoring it's four allies. He batted it's sword into the ground then brought hiss sword arcing back up, slicing through it's nose. It hissed and staggered back and the other goblins threw spears as one. Artem hit the dirt and the spears clipped the top of his head.
The young man leapt up and saw a goblin in deep red armour approach. The armour glinted in the sunlight, spikes emerging from likely grab places, and a medium length sword was in it's hand. A war banner was clasped in the other. Two more cloaked goblins flanked him.
Artem grabbed one of the small goblins and threw it into it's buddy, then scooped up his sword and charged the armoured goblin., after taking off the heads of the surprised, unarmed goblins. Artem blocked a sword swing, only to be shoved ruthlessly back by the war banner. The cloaked goblins both leapt at Artem, who dodged to the side and swung for one's neck. He missed, but only slightly. A severed goblin arm fell to the forest floor.
"You humans come into goblin land, walk where you are not allowed on holy ground, and-" the armoured goblin growled before Artem cut him off with a sword blow, which was hastily blocked.
The two fought for a few seconds, and Artem got a nasty gash across his forehead. The young human had an idea and swept the goblin's legs out from under him. He raised his sword for the kill, but was tackled by a cloaked goblin. His sword landed uselessly a good five meters away, and the Goblin stabbed Artem's shoulder. Artem called upon his natural human magic, and blasted the goblin off of him. It slammed into a tree trunk and didn't get up. He used what little magic he had left to heal his shoulder, and the blue glow that was created by his magic faded from where it had been shining around his eyes.
"You have use your magic now, human." the armoured goblin taunted, "Now you can not win."
"We'll see about that, goblin scum!" Artem yelled as he brought his fist crashing down on the goblin, who barely managed to stay upright.
The goblin's sword and war banner fell to the ground, and the trainee human grabbed them and hacked down at his foe. It's armour was cleaved open in an ugly gash, and it's face met a hard wooden war banner.
"You will not kill holy Kan, human." growled the cloaked goblin whose nose he'd cut apart.
Artem span around just too slow to block the sword, and it sunk deep into his chest. He screamed and threw the goblin off of him, hurling his sword at it for good measure. Blood poured from Artem's wound as he ran away, scooping up the captain's sword on the way. He felt his magic return as the enchanted sword entered his hand, and used it to seal his wounds and numb the pain as well as he could.
The light glared into his blue eyes as he emerged from the forest, an angry cloaked goblin and small horde of reinforcements on his heels. Goblins were faster than humans, so Artem needed to find a way to escape them, and fast. The sword was regenerating it's magic refreshing power, but not fast enough. As he ran, the human inspected the war banner, checking for runes - human magic captured in limited use symbols. He saw one, and with no idea what it did, tapped it and waved the banner backwards, hoping to slow the goblins down. Unfortunately for Artem, the rune actually just empowered the goblins. Artem had just reached the outlying farmland around Scarlia Root when he decided he might as well give up.
"Attack!" yelled a human voice from not far away.
Artem glanced over to see Sergeant Ronir of the Scarlia Crag guard and several others guards charging towards him and the goblins. The two sides clashed and the sounds of battle started piercing Artem's ears. A few fireblasts roared through the air, louder than everything else in the battle; Artem spotted a guard mage on the other side of a nearby farm fence. Mages were the only humans who harnessed their magic rather than unleashing it only once or twice a day. Artem smiled as a goblin went flying a few dozen feet into the air and smashed hard into the farm fields in front of Artem with a sickening crack. Two more quickly followed it, and the three were then set on fire and used as makeshift magical artillery. Artem leapt into the melee, Captain Jirin's sword arcing down into an unsuspecting goblin. A goblin wielding a spear charged the human trainee, who used the small amount of magic that had regenerated to trip the goblin. It didn't get the chance to stand back up. Ever.
"He was my brother!" another goblin yelled at Artem, who attacked it quickly.
The goblin blocked with it's huge dagger, and then headbutted Artem in the chest. The goblin then jumped and stabbed. Artem barely managed to knock the blow away from his heart, and it pierced into the side of his chest instead. The goblin dropped back down and slashed through Artem's knee. The young man would have been slain there had it not been for a timely intervention by Sergeant Ronir. The guard sergeant's spear burst through the goblin's chest at the last moment, and Artem staggered away from the fight. The mage saw him and waved his hand to heal the wounded youth, who sat out of the rest of the battle, his wounds not fully healed.
Re: Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story
Hi Flameslash,
Not bad so far, just one thing that was particularly irksome was that you used "it's" almost every time, when it should be its. It's is a contraction of it is, and its is the possessive form of it.
Other than that, no particularly large errors really jumped out at me. Keep it up
Not bad so far, just one thing that was particularly irksome was that you used "it's" almost every time, when it should be its. It's is a contraction of it is, and its is the possessive form of it.
Other than that, no particularly large errors really jumped out at me. Keep it up
F:tGJ, Saurian Campaign
The Southern Chains, a fanfic
“The difference between winners and champions is that champions are more consistent."
~Sierra
The Southern Chains, a fanfic
“The difference between winners and champions is that champions are more consistent."
~Sierra
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Flameslash
- Posts: 633
- Joined: December 21st, 2008, 12:29 pm
Re: Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story
Thanks for the feedback Huluvata. The whole "its"/"it's" thing is a mistake I make all the time, but I'll try to fix it.
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Flameslash
- Posts: 633
- Joined: December 21st, 2008, 12:29 pm
Re: Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story
Having to make ANOTHER NEW POST due to my Mac... Grr.
ON WITH THE STORY
After a few more seconds, Sergeant Ronir impaled the final goblin, the tip of his spear glowing with magical flame. The flickering fire reflected off of his steel armour and chain shirt, and burned as bright as the fire in his brown eyes.
"Artem, what happened to Captain Jirin?" the Sergeant asked, getting straight to business.
"He was kidnapped by goblins. I have proof." Artem panted, lifting the sword and goblin war banner.
"The goblins are after you too, it looks like." Sergeant Ronir said.
"Yeah. I heard hundreds of goblins in the forest. They're going to invade." Artem explained.
"Then we need Captain Jirin, and Sergeant Drahm's patrol from the other side of the mountain." Sergeant Ronir said, looking worried.
"The patrol only left yesterday, and it's a four day patrol!" Artem exclaimed.
"Then we need the hold the goblins for three days." Sergeant Ronir said defiantly.
"But there's only about fifty guards, and twelve are three days away, and Captain Jirin has been kidnapped!" Atem said.
"We can fight without the Captain." Sergeant Ronir replied, confidence oozing from every pore.
"With respect, sergeant, I calculate our chances of success without Captain Jirin and Drahm's patrol to be abysmal." the mage cut in.
"Uh..." Sergeant Ronir stuttered.
"Abysmal means very bad, sergeant." the mage sighed.
"Why not just say very bad then Omath?" the sergeant asked.
"Goblins are invading and you're arguing about words?" Artem cried.
"The trainee speaks true." the mage, Omath, added.
"Well, if we need the captain, you, Artem, Ioah, and anyone not in the guard who you choose can go and rescue him." Sergeant Ronir decreed.
"A chance to gain glory and save the village? Sounds alright to me." said a female guard Artem assumed was Ioah.
"Why do I have to go? I want to stay in Scarlia Crag and fight the goblins off. I'm not skilled enough for a mission this important." Artem complained, out of a combination of desire to see his family, and cowardice more than logic.
"You can do a whole lot more good for the village by rescuing Captain Jirin than you can by dying fighting a few goblins." Sergeant Ronir said.
"Ok. For Scarlia." Artem said nervously.
"For Scarlia." the Sergeant agreed, "Now go to the village and prepare. Omath, pass me the horn."
Omath reached into the pockets of his long grey robe, and pulled out a steel coated horn with golden engraving, forming dragons breathing fire. He passed it to Sergeant Ronir, who took it in his hands, raised it to his lips, and blew it. A cacophonous call shot forth from the horn, echoing through the forest to the south and town to the north. Birds across the farmland took off and flew away in fear, and the sounds of the goblin horde preparing to invade died down for a few seconds.
Artem had heard of the horn. It was the Horn of Scarlia, a relic from the war torn past of the world, when humans and dwarves had first declared peace and constructed the town of Scarlia Crag. It was rumoured to have magical properties that amplified the sound of the horn, inspired confidence in Scarlians, and struck pure terror into the hearts of those who would dare oppose the bearer. Standing mere inches from the horn, Artem could tell why. The thing literally emanated power, and Artem felt like he could slaughter the entire goblin race and rescue the captain in a heartbeat.
"Now we must go and prepare. Come." said Omath, taking off at a brisk jog towards Scarlia Crag.
Artem jogged after him, and could hear Ioah right behind him. As the trio got closer to the gates of Scarlia Crag, said gates swung open and roughly two squads of Scarlia Crag guards marched out, chainmail gleaming and their polished gauntlets and greaves almost glowing. Swords and spears were in their hands, and small bucklers strapped onto their arms. Two of them held flag instead of weapons, displaying the Scarlian flag, a golden mountain surrounded by silver stars, all of it emblazoned upon a blue background.
ON WITH THE STORY
After a few more seconds, Sergeant Ronir impaled the final goblin, the tip of his spear glowing with magical flame. The flickering fire reflected off of his steel armour and chain shirt, and burned as bright as the fire in his brown eyes.
"Artem, what happened to Captain Jirin?" the Sergeant asked, getting straight to business.
"He was kidnapped by goblins. I have proof." Artem panted, lifting the sword and goblin war banner.
"The goblins are after you too, it looks like." Sergeant Ronir said.
"Yeah. I heard hundreds of goblins in the forest. They're going to invade." Artem explained.
"Then we need Captain Jirin, and Sergeant Drahm's patrol from the other side of the mountain." Sergeant Ronir said, looking worried.
"The patrol only left yesterday, and it's a four day patrol!" Artem exclaimed.
"Then we need the hold the goblins for three days." Sergeant Ronir said defiantly.
"But there's only about fifty guards, and twelve are three days away, and Captain Jirin has been kidnapped!" Atem said.
"We can fight without the Captain." Sergeant Ronir replied, confidence oozing from every pore.
"With respect, sergeant, I calculate our chances of success without Captain Jirin and Drahm's patrol to be abysmal." the mage cut in.
"Uh..." Sergeant Ronir stuttered.
"Abysmal means very bad, sergeant." the mage sighed.
"Why not just say very bad then Omath?" the sergeant asked.
"Goblins are invading and you're arguing about words?" Artem cried.
"The trainee speaks true." the mage, Omath, added.
"Well, if we need the captain, you, Artem, Ioah, and anyone not in the guard who you choose can go and rescue him." Sergeant Ronir decreed.
"A chance to gain glory and save the village? Sounds alright to me." said a female guard Artem assumed was Ioah.
"Why do I have to go? I want to stay in Scarlia Crag and fight the goblins off. I'm not skilled enough for a mission this important." Artem complained, out of a combination of desire to see his family, and cowardice more than logic.
"You can do a whole lot more good for the village by rescuing Captain Jirin than you can by dying fighting a few goblins." Sergeant Ronir said.
"Ok. For Scarlia." Artem said nervously.
"For Scarlia." the Sergeant agreed, "Now go to the village and prepare. Omath, pass me the horn."
Omath reached into the pockets of his long grey robe, and pulled out a steel coated horn with golden engraving, forming dragons breathing fire. He passed it to Sergeant Ronir, who took it in his hands, raised it to his lips, and blew it. A cacophonous call shot forth from the horn, echoing through the forest to the south and town to the north. Birds across the farmland took off and flew away in fear, and the sounds of the goblin horde preparing to invade died down for a few seconds.
Artem had heard of the horn. It was the Horn of Scarlia, a relic from the war torn past of the world, when humans and dwarves had first declared peace and constructed the town of Scarlia Crag. It was rumoured to have magical properties that amplified the sound of the horn, inspired confidence in Scarlians, and struck pure terror into the hearts of those who would dare oppose the bearer. Standing mere inches from the horn, Artem could tell why. The thing literally emanated power, and Artem felt like he could slaughter the entire goblin race and rescue the captain in a heartbeat.
"Now we must go and prepare. Come." said Omath, taking off at a brisk jog towards Scarlia Crag.
Artem jogged after him, and could hear Ioah right behind him. As the trio got closer to the gates of Scarlia Crag, said gates swung open and roughly two squads of Scarlia Crag guards marched out, chainmail gleaming and their polished gauntlets and greaves almost glowing. Swords and spears were in their hands, and small bucklers strapped onto their arms. Two of them held flag instead of weapons, displaying the Scarlian flag, a golden mountain surrounded by silver stars, all of it emblazoned upon a blue background.
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Flameslash
- Posts: 633
- Joined: December 21st, 2008, 12:29 pm
Re: Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story
Story on hold due to Internet problems (In Internet cafe ATM)
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Flameslash
- Posts: 633
- Joined: December 21st, 2008, 12:29 pm
Re: Non-Wesnoth Fantasy Story - Update 3 is up
ON WITH THE STORY
As the trio entered the town, a short blonde haired man and a dwarf with a tangled red beard came running over, their footsteps impossible to hear over the sound of the Scarlia Crag guard marching out of the city. The pair of new arrivals stopped right in front of Artem, and the blonde human spoke.
“Artem, what the hell is going on?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“Well, Eorith, it’s a long story.” Artem started.
“Goblins are invading, Captain Jirin has been kidnapped, me, your friend Artem and the guard with us are going to rescue him.” Omath cut in, “Not that long a story.”
“Wait, what? The captain’s been taken?” asked Eorith, getting a bit angry.
Eorith respected Captain Jirin immensely and was clearly furious towards the goblins.
“That is what the man in the dress said, ye daft boy.” the dwarf grumbled.
“Shut it, shorty.” Eorith snapped while Omath gave a death glare to the dwarf.
“Sometimes, methinks ye only keep me around because I’m the only person shorter than ye.” the dwarf grumbled.
“I think that’s just a bonus, Gharin.” Artem laughed.
“If the captain’s been taken, I’m helping get him back.” Eorith insisted.
“And I’ll come along; I can’t have me two best friends dying without me there ta laugh.” Gharin chuckled.
“Good, we could use some extra fighters.” Ioah said, “You two can fight, right?”
“Obviously.” Eorith replied, gesturing to the shortsword he had hooked onto his rope belt.
“As long as you two don’t slow us down.” Omath said, glaring at Gharin.
“Oy, just because I’m a dwarf don’t mean I can’t run, crossdresser.” Gharin quipped.
“How dare you insult me in that manner, you...” Omath started.
“Just let it slide, Omath. You and your pride...” Ioah said, acting as peacemaker.
“We should get to the armoury.” Artem said.
Everyone in the group agreed and they took off a a brif jog until they reached the town armoury - a large, low roofed building with cobbled walls and a dark interior. Artem headed in first and pulled a chainmail vest over his white shirt, the rings of metal tugging at his unruly hair as he did so. He noticed the musty smell in the room and quickly pulled on two iron gauntlets, leaned the goblin war banner he was still holding against the wall, and rushed out. Omath was standing outside waiting, along with Ioah. Eorith left the building a second later, clad in the same exact garb as Artem except for the fact that his shirt was deep red rather than white. Gharin emerged a few minutes later in full guard armour, except for a platemail chestplate which he was using to replace the usual chainmail. A greatsword was strapped to his back.
“Not being mean, but isn’t that sword a little big for you, Gharin?” Artem asked.
“Nonsense. We dwarves need to compensate for something somehow, ye know.” Gharin replied.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“You realise you just said you have a small ‘dagger’.” Artem asked, sounding very amused.
Eorith chuckled at the innuendo.
“I’m not even using a dag- Oh, ye stupid lad, I was talking about height, ye-” Gharin started, then continued in dwarvish.
“What is he saying?” Ioah asked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Artem joked.
“Can we get to the vitally important quest to save out hometown now, or is that second to this social gathering?” Omath snapped.
“Yeah, we need to go and make a goblin mountain range!” Eorith said, drawing his sword.
“Calm down, the goblins are a long way away at the moment.” Artem said, not wanting his friend to wave his sword around in his face.
“Then let’s go change that!” Eorith said, running off towards the gates of the town.
The rest of the group hurried after him, weaving through the streets of Scarlia Crag, and reaching the gates incredibly quickly. In the distance, guards with spears were stabbing over stone farm walls, with swordsmen and swordswomen and swordsdwarfs defending the paths. A pair of mages stood on the balcony of a farmhouse, raining blast of fire and lightning upon the goblin invaders. Artem was barely able to pick out Sergeant Ronir and the Goblin Kan dueling in the middle of the largest path, the goblins and guards alike keeping at a safe distance from the two fighters.
“To battle!” Eorith yelled and started to run, but Artem grabbed the back of his chainmail vest.
“I want to help too, but we need to rescue Captain Jirin more than we need to kill a few goblins.” Artem sighed.
“Alright.” Eorith sighed, sounding defeated.
“Won’t we need to carve a path through the goblins?” Ioah asked.
“We need to sneak around, not attack head on.” Omath said, “I calculate the survival chances to be about-”
“So we just tiptoe around, yeah?” Artem asked sarcastically.
“I was thinking we should try ta go under.” Gharin said.
“We don’t have the time to dig.” Eorith said, “Can we just get to carving a path?”
“No, na digging, but using an old transport tunnel.” Gharin explained.
“There are no transport tunnels leading from here to the forest.” Omath said, “I often study the terrain.”
“Na anymore there isn’t, but there used ta be a tunnel going from here ta tha river.” Gharin said, “Me granddaddy used it every day, back when he was young and Scarlia Creek was thriving.”
Scarlia Creek had been one of Scarlia's towns before a war with the nearby kingdom Mistram and Goblin raids had forced it into ruin, along with Scarlia's only port town, Scarlia Cove. Since then, Scarlia Crag had drifted apart from the few remaining towns, and eventually the nation of Scarlia existed in named only.
“Hasn’t it collapsed?” Artem asked.
“We can’t slay a cave in with swords and axes.” Ioah added.
“Na, but we can move it from tha way with a bit of magic, methinks.” Gharin suggested, looking at Omath.
“I could create a magic force in the caved in sections to tempoarily create paths using my creation magic, but not for long.” Omath thought out loud.
“Alright. Let’s do this thing!” Artem said, “Where’s the entrance?”
Over on the battlefield, the farmhouse with the two mages in it collapsed as two goblin catapults hit it at once. One of the mages limped out of the ruins, dragging the other one behind him.
“In that farmhouse over there.” Gharin said, pointing to a farmhouse nestled right up against the town’s walls.
As the trio entered the town, a short blonde haired man and a dwarf with a tangled red beard came running over, their footsteps impossible to hear over the sound of the Scarlia Crag guard marching out of the city. The pair of new arrivals stopped right in front of Artem, and the blonde human spoke.
“Artem, what the hell is going on?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“Well, Eorith, it’s a long story.” Artem started.
“Goblins are invading, Captain Jirin has been kidnapped, me, your friend Artem and the guard with us are going to rescue him.” Omath cut in, “Not that long a story.”
“Wait, what? The captain’s been taken?” asked Eorith, getting a bit angry.
Eorith respected Captain Jirin immensely and was clearly furious towards the goblins.
“That is what the man in the dress said, ye daft boy.” the dwarf grumbled.
“Shut it, shorty.” Eorith snapped while Omath gave a death glare to the dwarf.
“Sometimes, methinks ye only keep me around because I’m the only person shorter than ye.” the dwarf grumbled.
“I think that’s just a bonus, Gharin.” Artem laughed.
“If the captain’s been taken, I’m helping get him back.” Eorith insisted.
“And I’ll come along; I can’t have me two best friends dying without me there ta laugh.” Gharin chuckled.
“Good, we could use some extra fighters.” Ioah said, “You two can fight, right?”
“Obviously.” Eorith replied, gesturing to the shortsword he had hooked onto his rope belt.
“As long as you two don’t slow us down.” Omath said, glaring at Gharin.
“Oy, just because I’m a dwarf don’t mean I can’t run, crossdresser.” Gharin quipped.
“How dare you insult me in that manner, you...” Omath started.
“Just let it slide, Omath. You and your pride...” Ioah said, acting as peacemaker.
“We should get to the armoury.” Artem said.
Everyone in the group agreed and they took off a a brif jog until they reached the town armoury - a large, low roofed building with cobbled walls and a dark interior. Artem headed in first and pulled a chainmail vest over his white shirt, the rings of metal tugging at his unruly hair as he did so. He noticed the musty smell in the room and quickly pulled on two iron gauntlets, leaned the goblin war banner he was still holding against the wall, and rushed out. Omath was standing outside waiting, along with Ioah. Eorith left the building a second later, clad in the same exact garb as Artem except for the fact that his shirt was deep red rather than white. Gharin emerged a few minutes later in full guard armour, except for a platemail chestplate which he was using to replace the usual chainmail. A greatsword was strapped to his back.
“Not being mean, but isn’t that sword a little big for you, Gharin?” Artem asked.
“Nonsense. We dwarves need to compensate for something somehow, ye know.” Gharin replied.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“You realise you just said you have a small ‘dagger’.” Artem asked, sounding very amused.
Eorith chuckled at the innuendo.
“I’m not even using a dag- Oh, ye stupid lad, I was talking about height, ye-” Gharin started, then continued in dwarvish.
“What is he saying?” Ioah asked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Artem joked.
“Can we get to the vitally important quest to save out hometown now, or is that second to this social gathering?” Omath snapped.
“Yeah, we need to go and make a goblin mountain range!” Eorith said, drawing his sword.
“Calm down, the goblins are a long way away at the moment.” Artem said, not wanting his friend to wave his sword around in his face.
“Then let’s go change that!” Eorith said, running off towards the gates of the town.
The rest of the group hurried after him, weaving through the streets of Scarlia Crag, and reaching the gates incredibly quickly. In the distance, guards with spears were stabbing over stone farm walls, with swordsmen and swordswomen and swordsdwarfs defending the paths. A pair of mages stood on the balcony of a farmhouse, raining blast of fire and lightning upon the goblin invaders. Artem was barely able to pick out Sergeant Ronir and the Goblin Kan dueling in the middle of the largest path, the goblins and guards alike keeping at a safe distance from the two fighters.
“To battle!” Eorith yelled and started to run, but Artem grabbed the back of his chainmail vest.
“I want to help too, but we need to rescue Captain Jirin more than we need to kill a few goblins.” Artem sighed.
“Alright.” Eorith sighed, sounding defeated.
“Won’t we need to carve a path through the goblins?” Ioah asked.
“We need to sneak around, not attack head on.” Omath said, “I calculate the survival chances to be about-”
“So we just tiptoe around, yeah?” Artem asked sarcastically.
“I was thinking we should try ta go under.” Gharin said.
“We don’t have the time to dig.” Eorith said, “Can we just get to carving a path?”
“No, na digging, but using an old transport tunnel.” Gharin explained.
“There are no transport tunnels leading from here to the forest.” Omath said, “I often study the terrain.”
“Na anymore there isn’t, but there used ta be a tunnel going from here ta tha river.” Gharin said, “Me granddaddy used it every day, back when he was young and Scarlia Creek was thriving.”
Scarlia Creek had been one of Scarlia's towns before a war with the nearby kingdom Mistram and Goblin raids had forced it into ruin, along with Scarlia's only port town, Scarlia Cove. Since then, Scarlia Crag had drifted apart from the few remaining towns, and eventually the nation of Scarlia existed in named only.
“Hasn’t it collapsed?” Artem asked.
“We can’t slay a cave in with swords and axes.” Ioah added.
“Na, but we can move it from tha way with a bit of magic, methinks.” Gharin suggested, looking at Omath.
“I could create a magic force in the caved in sections to tempoarily create paths using my creation magic, but not for long.” Omath thought out loud.
“Alright. Let’s do this thing!” Artem said, “Where’s the entrance?”
Over on the battlefield, the farmhouse with the two mages in it collapsed as two goblin catapults hit it at once. One of the mages limped out of the ruins, dragging the other one behind him.
“In that farmhouse over there.” Gharin said, pointing to a farmhouse nestled right up against the town’s walls.