Testing to see if it works

This is just a test to see if I can still post on this blog...it seems to be working internally...just not when I try to bring up the homepage. But we shall see...

The Dwarf Town

The dwarves led the weary warriors along the gorge. They followed it for the better part of three miles before it ended abruptly. “This is a dead end,” several of the younger warriors grumbled. They halted and watched the dwarves stride to the rock face. The head dwarf stopped and shouted something in Dwarvish. The walls suddenly split open revealing a lit corridor. Nat could not believe it. The tunnel was carved out of solid rock and must have taken years to dig! He quickly headed down into it following the surviving warriors and the dwarves down into the tunnel.

The tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly downward. It had a gentle slope that made walking easier and faster. The floor was pounded flat to make walking easy and there was nothing on the floor to trip over. There were not even cracks in the floor. It appeared to be carved from a single slab of rock. Ceiling was a bit low…the horses could all barely fit and several of the taller men like Nat had to duck a bit to fit through the door. The doors closed silently behind them without any visible source to close them.

They followed the straight tunnel for what seemed like hours and hours. The light never changed down here apparently and sense of distance was obscured. But finally something changed. They reached an intersection. Another tunnel, just like the one they were traveling, cut through at a right angle. Upon the wall were placards in strange runes. The dwarves did not stop to read them but Nat paused to see if there was anything he could understand. There wasn’t. Up until now there had been no other traffic. No other dwarves to be seen but suddenly some dwarves pushing and pulling little carts passed by nodding and greeting the dwarf warriors in passing. They stared curiously at the humans. A few frowns were directed towards them as well but for the most part the dwarves seemed curious as to what the humans were exactly.

Continuing further down, they passed more intersections with increasing frequency until they were literally within the heart of an underground city. Each block was cut out of solid rock and had houses delved into it with ingenious patterns. The houses were small for a human and in order to enter the doors Nat would have to bend double practically. But they looked comfortable. Dwarves were bustling here and there pulling carts and working steadily. Here a mason was carving something out of rock there a blacksmith was fashioning spears. The dwarf women were short with long wavy or curly hair that hung to their waists. They paused in making bread and tending strange looking gardens to peer at the passing company of warriors. As they continued through the caverns the ceiling rose and was soon lost to sight. The dwellings here were more lavish. They arrived and found themselves facing a literal castle…only it was underground. Its parapets rose forbidding above them and the gate opened. A dwarf company, dressed in glittering armor rode out on what looked to be ponies. In the lead, an old dwarf sat. A glittering crown rested upon his head. He dismounted and greeted Tyrom, “Welcome to Dwarkinburk. I am King Dwarlin the IV.” The two exchanged pleasantries and then the dwarf got to the point. “The only reason we have aided you is because you are the enemies of the goblins as well. But this is queer for you are Moravians are you not?”

There was much confusion and Tyrom explained “we were hunting goblins who had captured our families.”

“Ah yes…they have gotten out of hand and now you wish to combat your own allies,” the dwarf nodded. Tyrom started to explain again when the dwarf cut him off. “Obviously you do not know that the King of Moravia has made alliances with the goblins many times. Long have we fought the goblins for control of these mountains because of your king. You may not realize it, but the goblins of old roamed all over the land in tribes until thirteen small kingdoms were joined to create Moravia. Then they were forced out of your lands. They wandered in the east after that. But your king, King Damian I believe he is called, is a twisted man. He fears for his empire and his goal is to eliminate all competitors. Above all else he fears what the power of the Dwarves could do to him and his armies. So he went seeking the goblins and showed them our home here in these mountains. He somehow united the goblins enough to set them upon us dwarves…long had we been allies with Moravia…before any of you were born. But now the King’s greed for power and jealousy has cut off all our contact with Moravia. This is why I was surprised that you were fighting the goblins. It has been long since goblins have bothered any Moravians. The king was good at controlling them, though I know not how…”

Through this entire story Nat stood in complete shock. Everything he had learned was collapsing. Dwarves were real, Goblins did exist, and now the King turned out to not only be a tyrant but also an evil traitorous ruler who set Goblins upon his own subjects! Nat glanced at Dyl and could see him coming to the same conclusion. They couldn’t go back. Tyrom and the Dwarf king began discussing what to do.

“As to your families, we intercepted a goblin patrol with the women and children. They are safe and sound in Corath,” the Dwarf king was saying. “It will take you another 5 days travel to reach Corath. So you may rest here this night. Tomorrow I shall send some guides to take you to Corath.”

That night Nat and Dyl discussed this turn of events. The dwarves had shown them around and Dyl was impressed with dwarfish armor and weapons. The most unique weapons were the dart tubes the dwarf warriors used. A friendly dwarf had demonstrated it. Using a piece of flint and spring, he ignited a black powder which exploded and launched a steel dart into the target a short distance away. The explosion and smoke surprised Nat who leaped backwards away from the dwarf. He laughed and asked their names. He then introduced himself as Kryrock Broadsword. Nat glanced at the broad sword in the dwarf’s belt.

“What do you use the blasting powder for?” Dyl was asking.

“Ho that? We use it in our mines. It is great for crushing rock. We also use it in our catapults and dart tubes.” Kryrock then launched into a grand explanation of the usages of blasting powder.

Nat and Dyl visited Gronth. Gronth was being held in a jail cell by the dwarves. Kryrock accompanied them and argued with Gronth over several trivial matters. They had a good discussion and the four had a sparring match in the cell with dwarf guards watching. Kryrock deemed not to be out done by Nat or Dyl and that was why he participated. He seemed to think it an impressive and reckless thing to talk with a goblin and even more so to go into its cell alone unarmored. “How many goblins have you talked to?” Dyl asked him later at which point Kryrock couldn’t think of any others. “That’s what I thought,” Dyl muttered. “All goblins seem to be different. Not just mindless brutes either as Gronth proves.”

That evening they ate a strange meal…it consisted of a strong stew, good ale, and lots of meat. No one knew what the meal was…it was dwarfish and tasted fine to Nat so he helped himself. That evening Nat and Dyl toured the castle and then went to bed. They had a hard days travel ahead of them.

Race through the Waste

The horses were exhausted and the men were forced to dismount and run on foot. The goblins, being hardier afoot than us began to steadily close the gap. Gronth was running as hard as the rest of us, clearly running for his life as well. That surprised Nat…why would a goblin flee his own kind? It would make more sense to join his kind. He obviously had a lot to learn about goblins. He decided to ask Gronth later. Soon however even such idle thoughts were lost as the strain to run on took its toll on his body. He had to continue on though! He had to! The goblins were right on their heels barely behind them. They reached the edge of the mountains. The foothills. These were rocky gorges and crevices with all sorts of brush and dry stream beds leading out from the mountains.

Vaguely as though from a long distance, Nat heard Jerlom shouting for the men to prepare to do battle. There was a gorge ahead that he planned to insert us into and hold them off. Nat ran half staggering towards the gorge. Jerlom reached it and tossed his reigns to another soldier. He swept up a large battle axe from his saddle. “This is where we stop fleeing and will die valiantly!” he thundered. We rushed into the gorge. Nat came stumbling towards it. He heard goblin feet pounding the ground hard behind him and turned. A goblin with a scimitar rushed towards him. A burst of adrenaline swept through him and Nat spun to face him shouting, “Hubleton!” Suddenly the gorge shook and rocks came smashing down crushing the lead goblins. They piled up directly in front of Nat stunning him. He turned and joined Dyl in the battle line. The goblins swept up and over the pile of rocks and continue pressing forward. They engaged and the fighting raged fiercely. Then it happened. A shout arose from the mouth of the gorge followed closely by a roar of explosions. Suddenly a hoard of mailed warriors appeared. Wielding great swords and axes they came driving into the goblins. It couldn’t be though! Nat could not believe his eyes. These glittering warriors were all short! Could they truly be the fabled dwarves…he hadn’t really believed the Gronth when he said the goblins had many wars with the dwarves but here were real dwarves! The goblins reeled in surprise. The dwarves came swarming into the gorge and overwhelmed the goblin force cutting down all in their paths. They seemed to take care of the goblins easily enough.

The fight ended and the dwarves began scrambling shouting back and forth in a strange language. The leader approached the men from Hubleton and addressed them, “Good work! This was Griklorec and his men. What I want to know is how you caused that minor avalanche! This is solid rock! I see no blasting powder marks and you have no magicians with you. The deities must be with you.” He explained that he and his dwarves had watched the chase from afar and determined to avenge themselves on the hated goblins when the fight approached their fortress. They were invited to celebrate a victory at one of the nearby towns. Jerlom was genuinely surprised that there was a nearby town and the dwarves laughed. “Wait until you get there!” they said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well there we go! I finished a first draft of the map and I am sending it to John so he can hopefully put it on the blog. I don't know much about putting images in these things...so I will let him do that part. I shall continue revising the maps and hope to make some more in the next few months. Have fun reading!

Into the Waste

Hello readers! Here is a quick note concerning the Random Story Blog (Team Fantasy). I am in the process of creating a map and am doing some research but hopefully I can get it sent to John and he can post it. That way y’all can follow the characters around. Unfortunately I have forgotten the names to several locations and need to look them up so it could be a couple weeks before I get the map all drawn up and entered into the computer. Don’t expect anything too fancy either…I am just trying to do my research and get some names I have forgotten and need to fill in.

The rain was sorely missed in the Southern Wastes. Goblin homelands, as Gronth had called them. The wastes were rugged and definitely a fitting climate for goblins it would seem. Gronth said that his village was on the edge of the mountains. They fought often with the dwarves there for control of the mountains.

“Dwarves!” Nat had exclaimed. “They exist!”

“Of course,” was the gravelly reply. “If one isn’t careful a dwarf broadsword could cleave your knee cap off in those mountains. Many a goblin has disappeared in those mountains. The Goblins in the mountains are often much more…blood crazy.”

Nat could hardly believe his ears. A goblin was telling him that the mountain goblins were much more blood thirsty than himself.

Soon however all incredulity over that was forgotten as the Waste’s heat and sun began to drain the warrior’s strength. The sun blazed endlessly for hour after hour. Few trees grew. In different locations shrubs may be found but there was no accessible water. Unless they dug deep. They reached the first oasis parched to the bone and spent too little time there for Nat’s liking. 50 men and horses drink a lot when they are thirsty though and soon the water was hardly fit for drinking anyways. Moving on they pressed hard for the mountains.

Nat was walking his horse along with most of the others when suddenly Gronth spotted a dust cloud. “A large party approaches!” He hissed.

“Jerlom,” Nat shouted, “A party approaches!”

Jerlom swiftly swung into the saddle and shouted out for some of the soldiers to follow him. Dyl strung a bow and nocked an arrow. He half drew it and peered off after Jerlom. Nat did the same. Gronth was chained to another soldier’s horse and on foot. He appeared ready for anything. Suddenly the dust cloud resolved itself into…into…goblins! Shoot! They came pouring over the rim of the hill and drew to a halt in front of Jerlom. A big goblin, almost man-size and probably much stronger stepped forward and addressed Jerlom. They were too far off to hear what was exchanged but it probably was not very good. Jerlom was gesticulating wildly and suddenly without warning the goblin lunged at Jerlom. Wheeling his mount aside Jerlom came galloping wildly back with his men shouting for us to flee! Dyl loosed his arrow and struck a goblin far off. Nat followed suit and then they both turned and raced off with the rest who shot an arrow or two before racing off. The goblins pursued swiftly. They were very fast and for the next three hours managed to keep within sight of us. We managed to lose them in the haze of dust and a windstorm began to pick up. It slowed us down quickly. The mountains were within clear sight but still so far away it seemed! When the storm finished it was only to reveal that the goblins had caught us up again. Apparently sandstorms did not deter goblins like they did humans.

“What did they say?” Nat asked Jerlom.

“They wanted us to leave their land. I refused so they said that we would all die,” was the grim reply. “There are over 100 of them too! We will be slaughtered unless we can find a good defensible position We were moving fast and alternated between running and riding. We would pause long enough to swing out of the saddle and run on foot and lead our horse or to swing onto our horse. Nat soon began to weary. They couldn’t lose the goblins! The goblins slowly closed the distance. They were strong and hardy! To run this long and hard in the desert! Nat marveled at their endurance and feared it. They had to reach those mountains! That was the only way to survive! Even then it was doubtful they would make it. At the rate the horses were tiring they would be overrun long before then!

End of the next chapter! Yay! Hope you guys enjoyed it! Hey John! You gotta post another chapter too!

The Long Dreary Chase

Rains set in. Rain set the pace and the mood of the hunters. The goblins they had attacked had been but a few. After much questioning though, they ascertained that Gronth’s raiding party had only been a tiny fraction of the goblin force that was heading south. This was dreary news indeed and the rain did little to alleviate the feeling that they were riding into death.

Nat discussed his discoveries of the night before with Dyl that morning. In the Gronth and Nat again paired off and sparred with each other. Jerlom must be an awesome fighter to have managed to capture this goblin! Nat thought. The goblin crushed any offensive Nat made and pounded defenses literally into splinters as their practice swords often snapped. It felt good loosing all his built up energy though! Dyl smiled as he watched them fighting. One of the reasons the goblin was so tough to sword fight, he observed was because the goblins used his smaller size to his advantage and had a foreign style of sword fighting because of his different build. Nat was learning this style though. Dyl watched Nat execute several complex attacks only to be rebuffed by Gronth’s rock solid defense. Gronth would then counter-attack with quick, short slashes. Nat would then stop them and the duel would last for minutes before one or the other dealt out a good hit and the round was over. Today Gronth had won 5 our of 8 rounds. Nat was catching up though. As they sparred Gronth would often talk about his home and discuss different goblin techniques while Nat grunted with the effort of stopping his stick.

“Translated this move is called ‘Splitting the Skull’,” came the gravelly voice as it demonstrated nearly knocking Nat cross eyed. Nat blocked the blow and retaliated. “Ah yes…I haven’t fought many humans as I am so young…we goblins do not rely on speed so much as our brute strength to crush people. Your attacks are difficult to block in time! As my master always told me, when your opponent is faster than you, you must rely on skill to survive. My mother also believes in wounding the opponent before killing them to slow them down if they are faster than her.” Having said this the goblin proceeded to sweep Nat’s feet out from under him…only Nat’s feet weren’t there suddenly. Gronth brought his practice blade up just in time to catch a huge blow that cracked both swords and staggered Gronth. “You are good, Human! A worthy opponent if ever I met one!”

These duels were the only highlights of the dreary trip. They finally reached the Southern Wastes and there was nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. Dunes stretched out endlessly. The Goblin said that there was water to be found but it would take two days to reach it and an additional 4 days to reach the mountains on the other side of the desert. It could have been a trick of the imagination but one could almost see a mountain peak through the dust and sand. There was no other way to get to the goblins. The goblin tracks led straight into the desert. It would be fastest to cut straight through and then sail from Tyldaria to one of the ports further north from which they could then send their families home and then go back to the army. It would be the only way they could rescue their families and return to the army before they were listed as deserters.

Goblins!

The days blended into one nightmare. They were up in the saddle all day and rode until it was impossible to follow the road. Occasionally they ran across signs that the goblins had passed through a certain place or camped in a deserted town. There were approximately 50 hunters, hunting for the goblins. Dressed in tough travel clothes they looked quite fearsome. At night they would throw themselves to the ground pillowing their heads on saddles and sleep hard for a few hours. If the weather was favorable and there was a moon, they would travel hard through the night until the moon set. Finally after a week of hard traveling they ran into a goblin raiding party.

Jerlom was the first to see the goblins. He raised a horn to his lips and charged down upon the goblins brandishing a spear. We followed suite and ripped through the goblins. Nat raced through slashing to either side with his sword. He had never fought on horseback but it was not too much harder than fighting on foot. Reining his horse in after ripping through the goblins, Nat strung a bow and fitted an arrow to it. He aimed at a goblin and let fly the missile. It struck its mark and Nat went on taking down goblin after goblin. The goblins fled and were pursued by the villagers. The fighting died down as soon as it had started. They managed to capture a goblin and Nat noticed its features for the first time. It was shorter than a man but the thick legs and arms were obviously more powerful than most men’s. The eyes were slanted in and yellow wolf-like. His mouth was fixed in a perpetual sneer from a nasty scar on the creature’s face and the pale grey skin looked hard and calloused. The goblin wore leather armor with knife-like protrusions all over. Jerlom rode up and began to question him.

“Where are you from?”

“We came from the South. The High One promised us lots of slaves and loot in exchange for service!” The goblins voice grated on Nat’s ears.

“Who is this High One?”

“We are not permitted to speak of The High One’s name!” The goblin suddenly collapsed in a fit of wheezing coughs. “I cannot speak His name!”

“Can you write his name?” The goblin appeared puzzled by Jerlom’s question at first and then shook with fear.

“To speak The High One’s name is death! Instant death! He has cursed us and blessed us! We must serve him always!”

Jerlom glanced around uneasily. This was sorcerer’s business what with curses and all. He then tried to find out if the goblin could write but had no success in getting anything but babble about the High One’s curse and blessing and occasionally tid-bits about the goblin’s home village. They finally had to continue moving on. They bound the goblin and he jogged along in the middle of the group. The goblin was very strong and Nat realized that he was wounded in the shoulder yet he was able to keep up with the horses at a trot.

Nat nodded to Dyl saying he would be back shortly and rode over to the goblin. “Have you a name?” he queried the goblin.

“Aye, I am Gronth of the Stone Head tribe” was the reply. Nat started talking to the goblin and making normal conversation. Gradually he became to the Gronth’s gravelly gruff voice and learned that Gronth was accounted good with a scimitar or sword among his people. He learned that Gronth was really quite young for a goblin, being about 35 years of age.

“How old do you goblins live to be?”

“My father is 341” was the gravelly reply. Nat could not believe it. 341! Nat discovered that even these goblins were just making a living and surviving. That evening, finding some good sticks, Nat sparred with Gronth. Gronth seemed to enjoy the work out and he said that the wound slowed him but a little. Nat wondered what Gronth was capable of in perfect condition. He was already so good Nat had to defend himself most of the time. Gronth also proved quite honorable in the sparring. He said many among his people were honorable but to humans they only appeared to be savage. Nat fell asleep that night pondering all these new discoveries.

The Chase Begins

Heaps of scorched earth! Nat suddenly felt sick. He had been away “defending” his home and here he returned only to find it gone. They hurried into the village and inspected house after house. There was a surprisingly small number of fatalities it appeared. In fact…the village appeared to have been...deserted. But why would anyone desert their homes. Suddenly an older man by the name of Jerlom shouted something unintelligible. All the soldiers gathered round and peered at what he indicated. A wicked looking dagger lay on the ground. It was pure black, long and curved. The last 2 inches of the blade were serrated. It had strange markings all over it which no one could decipher. “Goblins” Jerlom stated matter-of-factly. “They probably came in here and took everyone they didn’t kill as slaves. That would explain for the few corpses. Unless they were all eaten…but we would find skeletons and bones if the goblins had eaten them all.”

“This couldn’t have happened more than two weeks ago,” another veteran put in. “Everyone spread out and see if you can find tracks of any kind to follow. We shall search for survivors and then decide what to do.” Nat hurried off. His mind was reeling as he scanned the ground for anything unusual. An hour later there came a shout and soon everyone assembled to find a young dirty faced boy, whom Nat recognized. He had often played pranks on people. Now he seemed scared witless and could hardly tell the men anything. After some good food though the boy calmed down and launched into the tale. The goblins had come in the night. They had carried off many people to be sold as slaves. Others had fled into the woods and he had been sent to search for some tools to build shelters.

“Well obviously our kinsfolk are still living! We should go after them and slay these foul goblins!” Jerlom shouted. He was not usually one to get riled up but after inspecting his home in ruins it had finally worn down his patience. Dyl was just shocked silent the whole time. Other men wanted to stay and rebuild so that their families would have food and shelter for the winter. That night a few of the men were reunited with their families but the rest spent the night tossing and turning. Trying to digest this sudden change. The next morning the villagers met and discussed whether to rebuild or pursue the goblins. Nat could not believe it! Some of the villagers just wanted to leave and start over somewhere else. He had not found his mother and he determined to rescue her if it was the last thing he ever did! Dyl’s family was also gone. Dyl grimly muttered, “They will never get me to stop pursuing those goblins. I will pursue them to the end of the earth and if they do not have my family with them, I shall make them pay for every ounce of discomfort they inflicted upon them!” Nat was stunned at Dyl’s expression but he nodded.

That day they discussed where the goblins could have gone. “The most obvious place would be the Southern wastes. Nothing but scorching desert or freezing mountains down there. Then after that you come to the great city-state of Tyldaria. Supposedly it is a city full of all sorts of creatures. But there is a thriving slave trade in the south and in the North towards Siltinia too.” Jerlom finally ended all the debating and announced that they would head south. He was the senior soldier here so everyone had to listen to him if not obey him. “We pack light and be ready to ride hard in the morning!”

Varrelle had been saddened by the sight of the devastation. As Nat and Dyl packed their blankets and weapons she came up to them and smiled sadly. “Leaving already? It is good to rescue your family…” she trailed off as if thinking of her own family. Nat wondered if this is what she always felt like, having had a similar thing occur to her family. Soon however he was back to his work.

The next day dawned bright and early. Nat and Dyl were up and in the saddle awaiting the others when suddenly Varrelle and the old woman rode up to join them. Jerlom noticed and rode over. “I am sorry ma’am but this journey will be much too hard and dangerous for your old bones, grandmother,” he said politely and then gave Varrelle a look which meant that she also was not supposed to come. Varrelle started to make a fuss but then the old woman gave a quick glance and she held her peace. We set out at a quick trot, though Nat wished he could gallop. It would reunite him with his family no sooner however so he held his pace. Dyl talked little. Jerlom and the other thirty men offered little conversation to anyone. They soon passed a neighboring village which was also razed to the ground and ransacked. They picked up a trail at this village. Jerlom pointed out the wider and heavier foot prints and identified them as goblin tracks and the lighter ones were human tracks. The tracks set out southward. They were off to Tyldaria.

The morning dawned nice, bright, and early. Dyl was rooted out of his blankets by an excited Nat who was already packed and ready to head off. Nat busied himself with eating a quick cold breakfast as Dyl blearily packed his tent.

“Why do you have to get up so early?” came Dyl’s complaint while he rolled up his bedroll.

“We’ll make more progress if we start early” Nat replied cheerfully.

“Yeah but the sun isn’t even up yet!” Dyl croaked.

“I think you need a nice refreshing drink of cold water.”

“No I don’t! I just needed you to let me sleep another hour or two.”

“Aw come on! Don’t you want to see your family again?”

After grumbling his assent Dyl cheered up a bit. He quickly finished packing and soon most of the company was assembled. The Lieutenant bid them farewell and to return promptly or they would be labeled as deserters and Sergeant Bullion stomped up and down bellowing orders and directions. Finally they were dismissed. Nat and Dyl raced off to find Varrelle and what her decision was. When they did find her she agreed to come along.

They set out with a brisk pace and covered much ground. The days were full of hard marching and the evenings full of lively discussions. Strangely the old woman accompanied Varrelle. She held her own with the group however and provided many insights into discussions.

Finally they arrived at the village. Nat excitedly increased his pace and came around the corner and stopped dead still staring. The village was in shambles. Many of the buildings were burnt to the ground others looked like a giant had stepped on them. There were arrows pin cushioning the ground everywhere and corpses strewn all over. Nat was horrified. Indeed the whole group was staring in shocked silence. The fields were burnt and blackened and where there should have been teams of oxen plowing and preparing the fields for planting there was only

Leave!

Nat had rapidly become one of the most elite swordsmen in camp. He had taken to wearing a two-handed broadsword. He had been practicing all out no rules combat with the Lieutenant lately and anything was allowed. Knives, kicks, even grabbing weapons from the small circle of on lookers to use. All the weapons were practice weapons and wouldn’t kill but definitely bruised. Nat was having quite a time holding his own against the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant was making a furious all out attack at him with a spear, wielding it like a quarterstaff bringing one end forward in a stab or swing and then reversing it and slamming the other end at Nat. Nat parried several blows, rolled under another blow and struck out with his own offensive. The Lieutenant pulled back and hurled the spear at Nat who spun sideways and pushed the spear aside. Suddenly realizing the Lieutenants ploy Nat tried to twist back the other way as a knife came streaking towards him. It bounced off his right shoulder and the Lieutenant shouted “Touche!” Nat gripped his sword in his left arm and made a swift attack at the lieutenant who drew his sword and returned the attack. After taking several other hits about his person Nat caught the Lieutenant’s sword in his side and stabbed him in the stomach simultaneously. The Lieutenant laughed (after getting his breath back) and said, “My goodness you are almost too good for me, Nat!” I made you pay dearly for that though…plus in battle a hit to the side like that would probably finish you in the end…so you have to work on your swordsmanship there.”
“Well I was slightly hampered without my left arm and then you gave me that nice hit across the thigh and so I decided to take a hit to deal a hit you know…sometimes it is the only way to get your opponent.”
“You did fine, Nat,” the Lieutenant nodded. “Hey I have this for you” the Lieutenant handed Nat a slip of paper with several names inscribed on it. Nat haltingly read it aloud:

“This certifies that the soldiers Woodsbury village are hereby granted 2 months of leave having completed their basic training and regular training exercises. The bearers of this are to be at their posts no later than the 1st day of the 5th month of this year of 1845 of the Second Age.”

“I can go home! I can really go home and see my mother?” Nat exclaimed. “Yes I have been longing to go see her for ages! Wait till I show Dyl!” The Lieutenant chuckled as Nat ran off to find his friend.

Nat sprinted through camp bumping into other soldiers and ran smack into Varrelle, who was naturally indignant. Her annoyance and anger faded though when she saw how happy Nat was and heard his news. Well it appeared to fade to Nat. He rushed off leaving Varrelle in queer mood, had she been…happy or sad? He put it out of his mind though in his excitement. Nat sped over to Dyl’s tent and checked it swiftly finding him gone hunted through the whole camp finally spotting Dyl.
“Dyl! Dyl,” Nat hollered excitedly. Soldiers gave him strange glances and stepped out of the way but Nat didn’t care. “Hey Dyl look at this!” Nat waved the paper in the air and thrust it in Dyl’s face as Dyl calmly came up. Dyl often seemed to be calm whenever Nat was really excited about something. Though Nat knew he was also excited, Dyl often felt he needed to counter Nat’s enthusiasm.
“Guess what,” Dyl said calmly.
“What?”
“I have one too,” Dyl produced an identical slip and winked at Nat.
“You knew! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Nat exclaimed.
“Well I wanted to keep it a surprise and all.”

Nat and Dyl quickly went and packed their things after finding that pretty much all the men in the company from the surrounding area were also on leave for two months. That evening when Nat and Dyl were helping Varrelle with a few of her jobs Nat excitedly related his day and who all was leaving for home for the next two months and what was probably going on at the farm. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.
“Varrelle, where are you going on leave?”
Varrelle appeared caught off guard by the question but calmly replied, “I am going to go back north to my hometown.”
Nat pondered this…she had never really talked about her hometown. “Where is that?”
“Well it used to be near the border…the Siltinians sacked it though so I was going to go look for any survivors or at least do something…”
Dyl glanced at Nat, “well if your town doesn’t exist anymore there is no sense going there…” he trailed off and Nat picked up on his silence. “You could come with us…meet my mother and Dyl’s family. I am sure you would be quite welcome.”
At first Varrelle said she wouldn’t come but later that evening she asked how far our village was.
“About a two week journey if we push hard,” Dyl said.
Pondering this Varrelle finally said she would ponder it and reply in the morning. After saying this she shooed them out of the tent and as they left that peculiar old woman came walking in and cackled a hello to Nat and Dyl. Nat replied cheerfully and Dyl suspiciously. Nat and Dyl then went and crashed into their bedrolls and slept hard until morning.

Varrelle looked out of the flap of her tent when she heard someone coming. The soft padding of feet didn't sound like a soldier, so she relaxed a bit. She wondered if it might not be the old woman. Yes.....that must be it. The padding was coming closer. Suddenly, a shriveled face peeked into the tent and cackled, "Here I am deary. Ready to have a nice chat?”
Varrelle had to smile. One thing had to be admitted; the old woman had a peculiar style that made her appealing.
"Now is this how you treat your guests?" the old woman asked.
"I'm sorry Grandmother." Varrelle said respectfully.
"Deary, I'm not that old. You can call me Sheera." the old woman said, in a falsely offended voice.
"Alright Sheera, what do you know about me, and why am I important to you?”
“Well aren’t you Miss Hospitality. If you must know, I’m going to play a very big role in your life. You have a talent. Stronger than mine even, and I didn’t think anyone would have that. You are an oddity, and even though you are stronger than I am, I can teach you some very important things that you are going to want to know. Do you want me to explain?”
“Ummmmmm…………. OK.” Varrelle managed to say, surprise overwhelming her. “Well first off, let me give you an example of how I can help you. Remember healing that boy? Well you fainted after that. Why? Because you used up your store of power. Even though you are powerful, you need to learn control, and build your powers. If you had been properly trained, you wouldn’t have been allowed to do something that big until you had built up your powers. You would do small things. Like make a feather float in the air. Even if those kinds of things don’t fall under your powers, anyone can do that. Beyond that, you would start healing small things. Obviously healing is one of your gifts. SO, you would maybe have a mouse with a scratch on it, and you would heal the scratch. You would move on to bigger things. Large birds, cats, dogs, until eventually, you would be able to heal a human with worse wounds than that boy you took care of without blinking, much less\n fainting.” “But G- Sheera, I DON”T have powers. I’m serious. Please don’t make accusations that aren’t true!” Varrelle said reluctantly, wishing she had the powers that Sheera said she did. “Fine then, deny it, but you know deep down that it’s true. At least let me come every night, and I can teach you about herbs. OK? That’s the least you can do deary.” Sheera said slyly. “Alright\n Sheera. Just at night though.” Varrelle said. ",1]
);
//-->
“Ummmmmm…………. OK.” Varrelle managed to say, surprise overwhelming her.
“Well first off, let me give you an example of how I can help you. Remember healing that boy? Well you fainted after that. Why? Because you used up your store of power. Even though you are powerful, you need to learn control, and build your powers. If you had been properly trained, you wouldn’t have been allowed to do something that big until you had built up your powers. You would do small things. Like make a feather float in the air. Even if those kinds of things don’t fall under your powers, anyone can do that. Beyond that, you would start healing small things. Obviously healing is one of your gifts. SO, you would maybe have a mouse with a scratch on it, and you would heal the scratch. You would move on to bigger things. Large birds, cats, dogs, until eventually, you would be able to heal a human with worse wounds than that boy you took care of without blinking, much less fainting.”
“But G- Sheera, I DON”T have powers. I’m serious. Please don’t make accusations that aren’t true!” Varrelle said reluctantly, wishing she had the powers that Sheera said she did.
“Fine then, deny it, but you know deep down that it’s true. At least let me come every night, and I can teach you about herbs. OK? That’s the least you can do deary.” Sheera said slyly.
“Alright Sheera. Just at night though.” Varrelle said.
“That will work for me.” Sheera said. After a few cups of tea, Sheera left, leaving a very confused Varrelle behind her. When Nat and Dyl came 10 minutes after Sheera had left asking questions, Varrelle politely told them that she couldn’t talk that night, but that in the morning she would explain. When Nat and Dyl complained, she shoved them\n out into the crisp night air, and prepared to go to bed. As she lay there on her mat, she wondered what was going to happed the next night.

Spies and Knives

Nat raced off after Varrelle. She was very fast. Nat's mind went over all he knew about her. Not much. She had been in the forest at the vilage Lothan and he knew little more than that somehow she had helped him recover. The problem was that she clammed up or changed the subject whenever he tried to ask about her family and past but seemed to want to know everything about Dyl and himself. She also popped up in the oddest placest sometimes. He might be practicing his sword forms and she would go walking by or working on his hand fighting and notice her off in the distance working on some task as quartermaster. Usually at this point Dyl would trounce him which was always really annoying cause she always appeared and seemed to be watching everywhere especially if he needed to concentrate. Very unnerving. Now she was trying to meet an old lady who she apparently didn't know but who seemed to be quite familiar with her. They arrived in camp and Nat and Dyl immediately set about washing the dishes with Varrelle as they discussed the latest rumors. Finally Nat couldn't stand it anymore. He had to learn something. At least how she had saved him and how he could properly thank her.
"How did you save me, Varrelle?"
Varrelle tensed and Nat felt a sudden caution from her. "I used my herbs and mixed some catspaw with slugbane and applied it to your wounds," she replied slowly. "Together they stop bleeding and increase the speed of healing."
"I was better instantly! Herbs don't heal that fast. Even I know that much about them," Nat pointed out. By the look on Varrelle's face Nat guessed it meant he would get no more out of her. "Well I just wanted to thank you for whatever you did. I would be dead and pushing up daisies right now if not for you," Nat said resignedly. She was as close mouthed as a clam and refused to let anyone get to know who she really was. It was so frustrating and disturbing. "If you ever have need of assistance or require any form of aid, feel free to ask it of me. It is the least I can do since you have helped me so much." Nat wondered if he was in the right trusting this lady with his aid but his dear old Mother wouldn't appreciate it if he didn't thank the lady who saved his life. Finishing the dishes Nat and Dyl left Varrelle and began returning to their tents as they promptly began discussing the old lady.
"I am worried about Varrelle, Nat," Dyl stated as soon as they were out of ear shot. "She is always so guarded and seems to be nice and open until you ask anything about her. Then she clams up as if there is some terrible secret that even she doesn't want to acknowledge."
"Well apparently she doesn't want our help since she won't even talk to us about it," Nat muttered barely loud enough for Dyl to hear.
"I am not so sure. Why else would she be following us around? I mean it is not normal," Dyl said in a thoughtful voice. "Maybe she is a spy."
"A spy! That is ridiculous! How could she be a spy!" Nat exclaimed. He thought about it a bit more and began to agree though.
"Well she never tells us much of anything about herself and she is always following us almost. Not quite seeming to but don't you think all those encounters are just a bit too often to be accidents?"
"Well if she is a spy then she must be working for someone...maybe we should start watching her more closely and see if we can't get to the bottom of this. We should also tell the Lieutenant," Nat stated.
"Nah we can't tell the Lieutenant until we are sure about it though," Dyl pointed out.
"But if she is a spy why did she save my life?" Nat asked as he came back to that one central mystery.
A glance told Nat that Dyl was at a loss of what to say to that. Nat himself had been pondering this for weeks and nothing seemed to work out. He thought she may be a fugitive but when he checked the bulletin in the city for wanted posters and pictures her name wasn't there. Besides why would a fugitive go and join the army where they had the highest chance of being recognized and arrested? Remembering her original clothes he wondered if she was a run away slave, but again he had found no missing posters in the city or anywhere. All he knew was that she was friendly and chatted about everything except herself or anything that may have to do with herself. It was frustrating.

That evening Nat and Dyl entertained themselves by practicing their knife throwing skills with another soldier who had perfected it. They had each found a pair of good knives for a good price and were now learning to throw them with accuracy. The soldier, Heath, had about ten knives located about his person which he could flourish in the blink of an eye. He showed Nat how to sheathe the knives up his sleeve and flick them out instantly ready to use. Nat soon got the hang of it. The old soldier then began showing off by juggling his knives and then drawing his rapier and juggling them with that and finally using the rapier to flick knives, in mid juggle, into the target. Then, still juggling knives, retrieve them with the rapier. Nat couldn't see the rapier it was flashing back and forth so fast. It was at that point that Dyl spotted the old lady. She was headed towards Varrelle's tent and both Nat and Dyl bade Heath good night and fare well before hurrying off to see what Varrelle was up to with this mysterious old lady.

Old Women and Fresh Vegetables

Varrelle scanned the crowds. Where was that old woman? She had said she would see her at the vegetable stall, but she wasn't there yet.
It was Thursday, and Nat, Dyl, and Varrelle were in town. After having walked around for a while, they had stopped to eat, but really, the food tasted strange here. Maybe that was the old woman!! No....she realized, her heart sinking.
While they had been sitting under the trees eating some rough bread and cheese with an apple and a thin milk-type drink, otherwise known as the staple foods of the region, an old woman had come up to them, and had spoken to Varrelle as one who is an old friend.
"Deary, who are these young men? Mighty handsome for soldiers, ain't they? You are lucky to have found them." she had cackled.
"I'm sorry; I don't seem to know you." Varrelle had said somewhat coolly. After all, who was this woman, and what right did she have to speak so familiarly to her? Even as a slave, people weren't that familiar to her, and she distinctly resented it now, as a free woman.
"Ay deary, no need to get yur feathers flustered, is there? No, you may not know me, but I know YOU." she had said mysteriously.
"Varrelle, who is this woman? Need we arrest her?" Dyl had asked quickly after the woman's last statement.
"No, not just yet." she answered slowly. She wanted to ask this woman questions, and she felt that this woman had plenty of answers.
"Madame, could we talk for just a moment over here?" she asked. The questions she needed to ask Nat couldn't hear. Well, Dyl couldn't either.
Nat had been increasingly on her mind lately, and she didn't really know what to do about it. But she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She needed to focus right now.
"Deary, your thoughts are far away." the woman mused. "Where, I wonder....."
"Never mind that." Varrelle said hurriedly. "Can we talk?"
"Meet me by the vegetable stall across from the stables when the sun reaches the middle of the sky." the woman said.
Varrelle calculated, in 45 minutes, she thought to herself.
"Alright."
Then the old woman walked away.
She still hadn't shown up, and it had been another an hour since she had talked to the woman, and she still wasn't there. Varrelle had a job to do, and she couldn't afford to wait much longer.
She leaned over to the stall-keeper.
"Sir, I was supposed to meet someone here, but I cannot wait much longer. May I leave a message for them with you?"
"Certainly." the rather paunchy man smiled
"I was supposed to meet a certain old woman here. I am not aware of her name, but I know that she will ask if I left a message with you. Please let her know that Varrelle works as a cook for the army, and that she may come to my tents at any time, and that I need to talk with her urgently."
The man raised an eyebrow curiously. "Alright, if you say so" he said
"Thank you!" she told him effusively
She ran back to where Nat, and Dyl, had been looking at some weapons.
"Come on boys!" she cried jubilantly to them. "I'll race you back to camp, and last one there has to do the dishes tonight!"
Grasping her skirts firmly, hiking them up to her knees, she ran fleetly in the direction of camp, her legs gracefully loping off, as one of the elves in a fairy tale. Nat and Dyl came to their senses and took off after her. After all, they would end up doing the dishes for the entire camp!

(once again another splendid post by the great guineagal! Hurrah!)

The Way of the Sword

Nat stood facing Lieutenant Stuntson. Sweat poured off his body and slicked his arms and chest. He had long ago discarded his shirt. It was soaked anyway. Stuntson was standing straight with his practice sword held high above his head. That pose was quite effective for attacking and useful in defense too. The two men circled warily before Nat rushed in again with a swift blow towards the Lieutenant's side. The Lieutenant deftly parried the blow and his sword flashed for Nat's head. Nat barely held off a swift and furious onslaught. Just a few weeks ago he would have been unable to defend against the Lieutenant's attacks but he was improving. Yes definitely improving. The Lieutenant had to work to get him now. Dyl was lounging on the side watching the fight. He and Dyl had begun practicing together in their spare time. Nat had determined to work hard to get promoted. If he couldn't farm he could at least earn money for his mother and send it home to her. Higher wages meant she might actually be able to survive more comfortably. Besides, his father had been a very good soldier back in his day. Before he had died at least. Nat grimly remembered his father telling him to do his best in all he did. Well Nat would make himself into a soldier like no other. Since he had no real choice in the matter anyway he may as well try to become an officer. Parrying a particularly powerful blow, something clicked in his head. He suddenly began a complex set of attacks which forced Lieutenant Stuntson back. Wondering at this new skill, Nat continued to fight realizing that he some how was winning! It was as if all the hours of training had suddenly unlocked a hidden skill! He could suddenly sword fight reasonably well! He understood it! The sword and him merged and became one as he parried and attacked with renewed vigor. Finally the match ended when Nat finally exhausted Stuntson forcing him to call an end to the practice. Nat had never been able to do that! Never fight him to a draw! This was amazing! He could match Stuntson blow for blow now.

The following days were much the same and Nat continued making rapid leaps and jumps in his sword training. Thursday was drawing near but Nat hardly noticed now with all his newfound skills. He felt stronger and had more endurance than before. Training wasn't quite so grueling. He wondered how he had improved so rapidly. He could out do anyone in the 35th in swordsmanship. Even the Lieutenant now. He started to seek out other blade masters and ask if he could practice with them. Many of them could still defeat him but not without difficulty. He was learning fast. Most other aspects of physical combat came easily as well. Nat had always been good with physical jobs. Hand combat was very easy to pick up. Each day Bullion had to find a new way to beat up Nat, and Dyl, well nearly he was impossible to beat up. Dyl could wrestle an ox and come out on top it seemed. He was now not only short and buff, but also hardened into a deadly warrior. Dyl was layered with muscles on muscles and walked around with a slight swagger when he was feeling particularly cocky about some wrestling match he had just won. Nat had changed too. He was taller and thinner than before. His body had hardened from all his marching and training. His hands grew more accustomed to his sword every day. He hardly noticed the changes though. This was life. Life was hard. Life was cruel. So far, in order to live, you had to know how to fight and so Nat decided to prepare for that. There were too few peaceful moments in life.

New Horizons

Liam scrubbed the planks with a filthy rag and embraced the pain of the blisters on his hands and the unbearable ache in his back caused by kneeling and bending over the sun-cooked deck all day, not to mention yesterday's painful welcome. The physical pain helped distract him from the greater emotional pain he was feeling inside. In the same day he had lost his mother, father, and little brother. The blasted siltinians had even killed his dog Manela. The thought that he would never be able to tease his father about his old age again, or to wrestle with his brother over who would tend to the turnips that day, or to taste his mothers delicious cooking, that he would never be able to do any of those things ever again felt like there was a gigantic gory hole in his chest and the wound was filled with salt. The fact that he also discovered on the same day that they weren't his real family, he was adopted, and that he had a brother somewhere his parents thought it was important he found was a trivial side note, compared. Never the less, every so often, when he thought no one was looking, he removed from a hiding place in his wasteband the strange leaf which seemed freshly fallen and almost alive even at this time of year when most trees were bare. His parents had told him that the one who had taken his birth brother away had given it to them, which would make this leaf almost 17 years old. And that was impossible. He banished the leaf from his mind, and tried not to gaze longingly at the sliver of land visible on the horizon.

Too late he lowered his gaze to resume scrubing and a familiar pair of boots appeared at his side, tracking dirt once again on his recently scrubbed poop deck ( a recently learned term for the deck above the captain's cabin ). Liam's gaze followed the black polished boots up past a garishly ruffled white shirt and fixated on the white bearded man's icy blue eyes.
"Thinking of tryin' to escape again?", asked the captain. The deck hands stopped their work to stare at the inevitable conflict with the newcomer and their leader. "Because if you are, you should know that I have other skills besides fist fightin' to keep you from doin' it. And you'd like my other skills even less."
"Save your skills you filthy monster! I wouldn't think of leaving this ship until I had spilt some of the Siltinian blood here.", Liam retorted, unable to keep his rage from breaking forth. He heatedly sprung to his feet. "Take me back to shore and maybe I'll spare you and your crew!"
"Bloody..." The captain cursed and brought back his arm as if he would strike Liam. Liam gazed unflinchingly into his eyes. Apparently dissapointed at Liam's reaction, the captain lowered his arm and chuckled.
"Aye, you have some fire in you, that much is clear. But you know as well as I that even if you were able to kill the whole lot of us, you'd never be able to bring this boat to shore. Look where you are!", he opened his arms indicating their surroundings, "This is the sea! Old disagrements have no place here if you want to survive. The sea makes no differences between taking a Marovian man or Siltinian one to a watery grave! Both kinds hold places here on my ship and they either work peacefully together or I make them get along." His tone of voice made it clear that being made to cooperate was the least favorable choice.
"So, young man" the captain's face neared Liam's ",why don't you get into the nautical spirt" they were a finger nail's width apart now but Liam refused to back down defiantly ", try to forget your differences with our siltinian crew mates" a pause ", and GET BACK TO SCRUBBING THIS DECK BEFORE I BEAT YOU UNTIL YOU'RE BLOODY UNCONCIOUS AGAIN!!! RIGHT! BLOODY! NOW!"
Liam managed to remain defiantly still despite the spittle which now covered his face, but something in the captains' gaze caused him to slowly sink back to the deck, dip the rag in the nearby bucket and to start scrubbing. The crew members chuckled, proud with how their leader handled things, and went back to work, more often than not to his prompting curses.
Still scrubbing with his right, Liam's left hand fingered the place on his jaw where the captain had knocked him out yesterday, his first day on the ship. A painfull reminder that he had some things to learn before he could kill Siltinians, much less hold his own with a hardened ship crew.

After angrily pushing past the worried protests of his friends and neighbors, the day before his abduction he had started out along the nearby rocky coast line, his face set in murderous rage and his vision blurred with angry tears, his sole purpose being to keep on living so that he might kill siltinians. He knew that the Siltinian border would not be closely watched along the coastline because the jagged rocks of the beach went all the way up into the nearby dense forest and made it impossible for an army to infiltrate Siltinian territory that way. And so it was that he made his way north plodding doggedly across the slick rocks and stopping only once to brutally fling a stone into the sea and scream vehemently at the sky before collapsing into sobs upon a moist boulder. He drove onwards into the night until he fainted from exaustion in the shelter of two pine trees, the only trees still green for miles around. He awoke to several strange things in the morning. The first two being that eggs were cooking on a fire in front of him and that he seemed to be covered with Merian the village healer's cloak. The next two oddities being that Merian was lying face down in the dirt a knife in his hands and blood covering his head, and that someone was holding Liam's arms to his side while a large dark-skinned man rose a club over his head. He had just enough time to realise something was wrong before the club came down and he went out like a candle. He was awoken for the second time that day by someone pouring a bucket full of salty water on his face as he lay unrestrained on the ground. Liam felt the wooden floor and thought that he'd been taken to a house somewhere, and that the rocking of the floor was due to his dizziness after the blow to his head. Vaguely he heard the dark-skinned man who had clubbed him tell the bearded man in front of him that they had found the prisoner just like he said they would. Liam assumed that meant they were siltian border patrollers and thought his assumption confirmed when he heard them call the bearded man captain.
He rose shakily to his feet.
"You infernal Siltinians! You take even the life of the defenseless doctor who followed me all this way to look after me!", he screamed at their captain, quite beside himself with anger.
The captain looked at the heavily muscled men questioningly.
"Is this true? You were only to take this man, not to kill anyone!"
The heavies looked flustered.
"Sir! The other man was not dead! We just conked him like we did this guy!"
No one was paying attention to Liam while the captain dressed down his lackeys, and Liam, his vision red with fury, was too far gone to hear the words of the cursed siltinian leader. Spittle covered his chin and he muttered something about this siltinian having killed his last innocent as he rushed the captains back, his fist ready to bash the murderer's head in. To his surprise his fist hit nothing but air and as he passed through the space the captain had occupied less than a second before an arm grabbed his shoulder and threw him crashing into an empty barrel, shattering it. Liam shook his head attempting to clear his double vision, sprung to his feet, and in one smooth move grabbed a board from the remains of the barrel and swung it wildly at the relaxed-but-ready captain. And again the captain did his deplacement trick, the board shattering against the wood floor. This just seemed to make Liam even angrier and the air seemed to grow thick with his wild punches, the captain always managing to duck, sidestep, or otherwise deflect the blows, an amused smile on his face, moving with a youthful agility which belied his gray hair. Suddenly the captain seemed to tire of their game and sent Liam flying backwards with a fierce uppercut which made even the more hardened deck hands wince. As he lay on his back Liam fought to stay conscious, and the captain proudly accepted the applause of the crew. A young looking face marred by an eyepatch appeared above Liam.
"No one can beat the captain. Even if he fought like a new born girl-child, you still wouldn't be able to. The captain has ways."
This last was spoken almost reverently, and the clean shaven face was the last thing he saw before he passed out.

And then he awoke this morning to a rag and bucket being pushed upon him and was told to scrub. And so he did, noticing for the first time that he was on a ship. From before the sunrise until now, when the sun almost brushed the horizon he had been slaving away at the deck eating nothing as the crew openly gorged themselves on freshly caught fish. Liam's stomach grumbled but he didn't want to risk another casual blow like he recieved last time he went to get food.
"Hungry?"
Surprised at having his thoughts seemingly read so easily, he turned to see the eyepatched face he saw before he blacked out yesterday. Strands of blond hair escaped a bandana, framing the most beautiful face Liam had ever seen, with or without an eyepatch.
"Ya-you-you're a gir-yes! I am hungry!" Liam stammered before noticing that the eyepatched girl carried a plate of piping hot fish.
The girl chuckled. "You catch on quickly don't you?" Liam took the plate and commenced to stuff his face under the amused gaze of the girl. Her smile was a great comfort to Liam who had become numb after so much trauma in the past few days. Liam attempted to smile back, but only succeded in making a grimace. The girl laughed.
"You've been through much lately, haven't you?" she asked.
Liam suddenly remembered were he was, and that despite her kindness, this girl had been part of kidnapping him. And so it was with some guardedness that he answered that maybe he had been through more than she knew.
"Well you know, we're not all as bad as you think we are. Some of us disagreed with your, um, ...coming here."
"Is that so? Really. So why am I here? Huh? Just needed someone to CLEAN YOUR FLOORS?" Liam shouted at her.
"That's a kind manner to treat someone who gave up her dinner for you! But since you put it so kindly, I don't know why your here, only the captain does. Why don't you ask him?"
The girl took his empty plate and pranced back below decks. Suddenly left alone, Liam gazed at the setting sun and thought that maybe he would do just that.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hey guys! I have finally got around to writing my bit here, and I hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts, I always am gratefull for constructive critisim!]

More Training

Nat watched Varrelle literally sway off with groggy eyes. She was strange. Stretching, Nat stepped out of his tiny tent and pulled a shirt on. She was very strange and very pretty...he would have to be careful around her. Dyl clawed his way out of his tent, panting as he reached the surface. Nat sympathized with him. The tents were barely tall enough to sit up in and seemed to close in on you.

They had rejoined the main army but by that time the Siltinians had withdrawn and left the area. Scouts reported them heading back North, towards the border of Siltania. At least according to Lieutenant Stuntson. Nat handed Dyl a loaf of bread, "Good morning."
"Morning," Dyl grunted rather grumpily. He wasn't a morning person. Good thing Varrelle had given him the bread instead of Dyl. Otherwise Dyl might have scared her off with his ill-tempered attitude.
"Would you like some breakfast? Courtesy of the gracious Varrelle," Nat asked as Dyl noticed Nat eating a delicious, hot loaf of bread. Dyl quickly helped himself. Nat scratched at his brown hair and began discussing the last couple weeks. They hadn't left Surdilea and, if the Sergeant would give them Thursday off, they could go see the sights. Surdilea appeared to be nothing like Chiriath Mul. While it did have a huge wall, the wall enclosed only the inner city. The outer city was really multiple open-air markets. They were filled with all sorts of wonders and Nat had never seen a city so full of trade and so busy as Surdilea. Chiriath Mul was a fortress city. It was big and everything was designed to help defend it. Surdilea was wild with disorder compared to Chiriath Mul. The reason they hadn't been able to visit town though, was because of training. Between Sergeant Bullion and Lieutenant Stuntson, they were training all day. Bullion was perfecting their basic skills with spears and axes etc, while Stuntson focused on swordsmanship. He had even begun taking Nat out for evening practices. Just the lieutenant and Nat, fighting it out to see who was the most skilled. It was always the lieutenant but Nat noticed that he could hold his own. The Lieutenant seemed to enjoy the bouts and went so far as to tell Nat that he would make a good swordsman if he survived long enough. Nat took it as a compliment.

"Hey Dyl," Nat began. "Varrelle asked if we could go to town with her on Thursday. She says she has the day off. I guess she figures we have nothing else to do and a break from all this training would be nice...what say you?"
Dyl mulled over the question for a minute and then replied, "Well as long as it gets us out of training for a day, anything is fine with me. Well anything short of a battle. I might even welcome that to training. Bullion's hand combat techniques are quite painful..." Dyl trailed off leaving Nat to silently agree. His muscles still ached from where he had been pommeled from Bullion's fists. The man had a habit of walking up and socking you to demonstrate different hand combat techniques. Like keeping your arms in the ready position at all times and other techniques that soldiers forgot or hadn't mastered yet.

Shrugging himself into his coat, Nat headed off to go clean up for inspection. Another day of training to look forward to. Great! he thought. I wish it was Thursday already. Then maybe I could have some fun and explore town... First he had to get permission though. That didn't prove to be so hard. After inspection Nat and Dyl began their next day's worth of training while looking forward to Thursday. Only the rest of the week until their break.

Breakfast in Bread

Varrelle wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do.
Of course, she was going to work as a cook for the Moravian army, but beyond that point, she was clueless. She began thinking everything over. First, she was going to be paid. And she was going to be paid a lot. She needed to figure out how she was going to spend that money, and toward what purpose she would save it. For now, her bed and board were taken cared of. She might as well put aside enough for some clothing, and then put the rest toward a house. At this point, a house was something she didn’t need. But later on, she would need it, and when that time came, she wanted to be prepared for it financially.
These pressing matters decided, she went to find Nat and Dyl with a basket of bread for their breakfast. They had, of course, been the ones who had gotten her the job, and so she needed to thank them. Also, she wanted to see if there was any way she could get closer to them. She needed to find out more about this “vision man” she had discovered. Nat seemed to be pretty normal, but she wanted to find out how he affected her. And he couldn’t have any affect on her if he wasn’t part of her life. Therefore, she needed to incorporate him.
As she wandered through the camp, she noticed that there weren’t any women in the group. Well then, I’ll be a first, she thought viciously. And a first they won’t forget.
One of her main concerns when she took the job was that few of the men would respect her. In any way. Of course there was the fact that several of the men would only see her as someone to flirt with. Others would believe her, because of the fact that she was female, inferior to them. That was the main reason that she had included the fact about respect into her “resume.” She didn’t want to have the Sergeant tell her that it was her own fault for not having specified it when hired. Now, if anyone dared to disrespect her, she would be able to have a good foundation to build her case upon if it came to that point. It was good, safe knowledge. She really didn’t want to have to think that that knowledge necessary though. She would rather have the men respect her, plain and simple. But they wouldn’t, and that was why her “protection” was necessary.
She finally reached the tent that she knew was Nat’s, and the one beside it, that she knew belonged to Dyl.
“Naaaaat!! Dyyyyyyyl!! Where arrrrrrre youuuuuu?” she called playfully. Inside the tents she heard some rustling.
Nat had just woken up, but because of the fact that the day before he had taken a bath and shaved for the first time in weeks, he looked, well, nice. Very nice, she admitted guiltily to herself. But that wasn’t what she needed to focus on right now.
“I just wanted to thank you for getting me this job. I know that you didn’t have to, and that you don’t even know me yet, but I promise that I will try and do my best in this position and justify your leap of faith.” She said teasingly.
“Uhhhh, no problem.” Nat said a little groggily.
“Great! Well, I need to get to work on midday, so I’ll leave you. Come see me anytime you want. Oh, and it seems that I have Thursday off. Would you and Dyl like to go do something in town then?” she asked slyly. She had come up with this plan the night before. She needed to get them in an informal position, and just talk. And the fact that she would have both of them there made it even more informal and comfortable. Maybe they were the kind of men who opened up when their stomachs were full….in which case, she had that covered………
“Uhhhh, yaaaaaa that sounds good. I’ll have to talk to Dyl though. I’ll let you know.” He said slowly
“Oh, I nearly forgot, breakfast! Here is some bread for you.” She left it by the tent and walked away with the empty basket
Varrelle smiled as she walked, and then allowed her hips to sway gently to the rhythm that only a woman carrying a basket knows. Her skirts swished, and she thought pleasantly that it was nice to have a long, swinging, clinging skirt again. It was so convenient to use to get her way, she thought laughingly. By the time she was at her quarters again, her face had broken into a huge smile.

(Ahhh yes! Another splendid chapter by Guineagal!)

Back to the Battle

Nat stared, slackjawed, at Varrelle as the Sergeant turned away to continue his bellowing elsewhere. "11 darellins! We only get payed 4 darellins until we complete all our basic, primary, and secondary training!" Dyl was equally surprised at the pay.
"You could get tons of stuff with 11 darellins! They pay cooks that much! Wow! I am going to have to learn to cook better," Dyl smiled.
"Your first day in the Army and you've already landed a good job! You have better luck than I," Nat stated.
Varrelle quickly switched the topic and seemed a bit distressed to Nat, though he couldn't see why. She had landed a good job, and was going to be paid quite well, and at the same time wouldn't have to be kept captive. He felt a little guilty at not completing his orders exactly but at least she wasn't running loose. The only reason for the order to capture anyone who they met was only to keep them from falling into the hands of Siltinians and giving away our position. So everything was fine.
"Where are you from?" Varrelle asked, as they headed out of town.
"We are from the village of Hubleton in the region of Laodin" Nat replied. "And you?"
"I too am from a small village but it is no where of importance. You probably have never heard of it. I haven't ever heard of Hubleton. What is it like?" Varrelle responded quickly hoping to avoid giving away much of her past.
Nat pondered her strange reaction for a bit while Dyl answered carefully, telling about the village green and the old inn. Obviously by Dyl's carefulness, he too noticed Varrelle's evasions. They led her to the 101st's camp and showed her the cooks quarters. Since the previous cook had been a man it was smack dab in the middle of the camp. Nat and Dyl helped her move all the equipment to the edge of camp. She noted that it was quite a bit to carry.
"Well the cook usually has a pack mule to carry his pans. The cook is also the quartermaster of supplies and is in charge of gathering whatever the company needs. Right now we live off of cold rations but that makes it easy for you. Once the campaign is over though, you will have to start cooking," Nat explained.
As they finished a messenger rode into the camp. His horse was winded and he didn't look like he was doing that great himself. He gave the lieutenant a message before galloping off. All the soldiers gathered around to find out what was going on. The lieutenant gravely raised his head.
"Men! We are ordered to move out immediately and march due west to rejoin the main army for a final attack. This is probably going to be the most decisive charge of the battle. Let us prepare to go do our duty!" the lieutenant shouted.
There was a general cheer as the soldiers began packing up the camp swiftly.
"Well I guess we can pack up your stuff now and head out," Nat said with fake cheer. He and Dyl helped Varrelle before heading off to collect their own gear and provisions.
Once out of earshot Nat turned to Dyl and asked, "Do you think she is hiding something?"
"Yeah I have the same feeling. Like she doesn't really trust us or is trying to hide something. Very queer, makes me wary around her. I'm not sure if we can really trust her," Dyl stated. He was always wary about strange things. Nat wanted to trust her, after all she had healed him...but she acted so strangely.

A New Cook

Varrelle stretched, and then started. There were two men staring at her. Had they caught her? Were they going to interrogate her? And why was she on the ground?
Her mind clamored questions at her, but she forced herself to remember the last thing she had done and seen. That’s right! That young soldier. But, there he was, staring at her as if she was the strangest thing he had ever seen. He wasn’t the only one who had a shock. What was he doing? He was covered in mud, blood, and worse. Well. She needed to gather her thoughts, and get some answers.
Painfully she began to get up, when the young soldier who she had met first, what was his name? Dyl? Came over and helped her up. Gratified by his kindness, she smiled weakly at him.
She immediately began to take hand of the situation.
“Who are you? I mean, I know your names, but nothing more. Also, what do you want with me? And finally, what happened to me?” she asked quickly, before either of them dared say something to her.
“We are Moravian soldiers.” the one named, Nat, she was sure, the one she had healed at least, and the one in her vision, told her. “We wish to do you know harm. All we want is some answers. And as for what happened to you, we still don’t really know for sure. You have been out cold for at least 12 hours. We think it was pure exhaustion, plain and simple.”
Remembering the feeling of lightning running through her veins, she doubted it, but was satisfied to ignore that for the moment. Other than the fact that she felt rejuvenated after days of hard work was a good feeling, she still had questions.
“OK, Nat, Dyl. What are you going to do with me?” she inquired brusquely.
“Weeeeeell, we are ordered to capture anyone we meet, and report to our superiors.” Dyl said reluctantly. “Although we really don’t feel we should do that, considering what you’ve done for Nat here. He would have been a goner.”
“Actually,” Nat said, “I was wondering whether we couldn’t make you a proposition. If you wanted, instead of turning you in, we could take you to Sergeant Bullion, and see if you can’t take the place of chef. Our old one was killed in battle, and you seem to have a knack with herbs.”
Varrelle began weighing pros and cons.
After about 3 minutes of waiting on the part of the soldiers, she said, “OK, but only under certain conditions. First, I’m going to need my own sleeping area. I refuse to sleep with the soldiers. Second, when I ask for something, I expect to get it. Of course only kitchen things. As far as I can see, that’s all, but I may need other things, and I reserve the right to change those conditions whenever I need to. Is that clear? I also will demand respect from the soldiers.”
Nat and Dyl looked at each other. Nat had suspected that these would be the conditions. They weren’t unreasonable.
“OK, you’ve got yourself a deal. Of course, we aren’t the people in charge. You still need to talk to Sergeant Bullion.”
“Alright, I’m prepared for that.”
As they led her away from the brook and toward the main buildings, she began to worry a little. This was NOT the way she had planned it. But she needed to stay close to Nat. She needed to find out more about how he impacted her.
They reached the main building. As they walked inside, she saw a tall, muscled man yelling orders to some soldiers. He stopped when he saw them.
“What do you want?” he snapped
“Sir, I was under the impression that you needed a chef. Well I would be willing to cook. I’m also talented with herbs.”
The Sergeant seemed to mull it over.
“What are your conditions?”
“First, I’m going to need my own sleeping area. I refuse to sleep with the soldiers. Second, when I ask for something, I expect to get it. Of course, only culinary things. As far as I can see, that’s all, but I may need other things, and I reserve the right to change those conditions whenever I need to. I also will demand respect from the soldiers.”
“Girly, those are standard. Is there anything else?”
“Well, wages would be good to talk about. I was thinking that approximately 8 darellins per month would suffice.” (Enough to buy at least 2 dresses)
“Girly, the army pays 11 darellins per month per cook, because the cooks end up fighting. The job isn’t a coveted one, well paying or otherwise.”
“Fine, I’ll take it.”
“You’re hired”

(Yay! Go guineagal! Keep it up! Can you readers guess who wrote this one? I pretty much left it alone so I haven't changed anything I don't think)

Miraculous Healing

Nat's dreams were suddenly interrupted by a strange feeling that flowed into him. His pain vanished and his fevered dreams of home were suddenly dispelled as the urge to wake up drove him towards consciousness. He opened his eyes to find a young lady collapsing on top of him. He grunted softly and then realized it hadn't pained his side. He checked it and couldn't find the wound. Surprised and amazed by his good fortune to be alive he next spotted Dyl leaning over him. His face appeared drawn with worry which smoothed when he saw Nat's eyes open.
"What happened?" were the first words out of Nat's mouth.
"You are back!" Dyl cried exultantly. "She saved you!"
"Who is she?"
"Umm...she didn't say," Dyl looked a bit embarrassed.
Nat gently lifted her, marveling at her muscle and then positioned her so he could examine her. Suddenly he started. She was the one who had distracted him and almost cost his life. She looked almost like the girl from the woods, though the clothes were different. Relatives? No matter a lady was in need here and his dear old mother would never forgive him for tarrying when someone needed help. "Help me take her to the village and let's find a bed or at least a soft, warm place for her to lie. Then we can try reviving her. Tell me everything about the battle after I went down." Nat slowly stood. He still felt weak and apparently he hadn't regained his strength. He examined himself. He repeated the examination. Not a scratch. He felt his neck for the gash and it was gone. His side didn't even have a scar. In the meantime Dyl explained about how the Siltinians had broke and pulled back, how the village had been rescued, how he had found Nat, and, most importantly to Nat, how this strange girl had healed him.
"She put some sort of crushed herb in your wounds and then she was holding your arm and suddenly collapsed on top of you as you were opening your eyes. She must have had too much excitement for one day," Dyl concluded.
Nodding agreement Nat carefully wended his way along holding the girl between them.
"Those herbs seem to work marvelous things! How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine but drained of energy and strength. I must have lost too much blood. It is all I can do to help you carry her." Upon arriving at the village they found that all the buildings were full of wounded and there was no room at all for more. They finally ended up taking some clean blankets from some dead soldiers and creating a bed for her near a little brook flowing on the outskirts of the village. Nat, sagging from exhaustion was unable to do more than sit idly by and let Dyl go find some smelling salts or anything really to help revive the lady. Dragged down by weariness, though, Nat finally sank into a deep sleep and didn't wake up until morning. He woke up to find Dyl cooking breakfast and the young lady still unconscious.
"She hasn't woke up all this time?" asked Nat.
"No. It's as if she is just sleeping normally though. See her chest still moves."
Nat glanced back to see if that was correct and heaved a sigh of relief. Then he got up and still rather weak but feeling invigorated got a good refreshing drink from the brook. As he returned from the brook, now wet, bloody, and muddy, the young lady yawned and stretched luxuriously before opening her eyes and looking around.

Miracles and Visions

A few hours after the alarm had been sounded, the fighting had died down, except for a few pockets of resistance. Varrelle wasn't sure what she was going to do at this point. She had just gotten ahold of herself, and now her grasp was slipping. Right now, all she wanted to do was sit down and cry a river. But other women were helping. Women she was sure had lost husbands and sons within the past few hours.
So she got up, dusted herself off, and tried to be objective. Alright, so there were now soldiers here. Of course that didn't mean that she was in trouble. She hadn't done anything to them. She had even assisted in the killing of 2 Siltinians. That's right. They had nothing on her.
Thus she bolstered up her courage and set out to help with the wounded. It was a fairly easy job, because first, she was good with herbs, and second, because she didn't have to fear that a loved one was going to appear in the growing pile, as other women did.
As she was searching to see where she could help, she saw a young soldier bending over another soldier.
Approaching him gently, she inquired, "Is he your brother?"
"No, but he's as close to me as one." the young man replied.
"Let me see how badly he's wounded." she demanded, picking up on the present tense that the young man had used.
"Oh my." this was extrordinary.
"What is it? Is he dead? Please don't say he's dead!" the young man cried
"No, not dead........." Varrelle rocked back on her heels. This was amazing. She knew him. Of course not formally, but he had been in one of her visions. She had had visions as far back as she could remember. It had only happened 4 times in her life, but they had happened at equal intervals in her life. No, that wasn't precisely true. She had actually been having them more frequently. She had had the first of her visions at the age of 5, or so her mother had told her. Her second, at the age of 9, her third, at the age of 13, and her most recent at the age of 16. So there had been a slight increase.
Anyway, the fact remained that he was one of her vision people. Before, if she had a vision about someone, they were to be important in her life, whether negativly or postitively. She had, for example, had a vision of the face of her future slave owner at the age of 13, and had no idea what it meant until 2 years later, after she was sold to him.
She had to go carefully. She couldn't rush this at all.
"What's his name?" she asked brusquely
"Nat."
"And you are......?"
"Dyl."
"Ohhhhhhh."
"If you can do somthing for him, please, do it quickly!" Dyl burst out, for the first time looking up into her face. "Why, you are the girl from the forest!"
"What? You must be joking. I haven't been in the forest at all recently!" she fibbed. She needed to figure out the situation at hand. Not explain her life story.
"Weeeeeeell......" Dyl said reluctantly. "Maybe you weren't. In any case, can you help my friend?"
She thought about it. Of course there was the fact that she needed to figure out how he impacted her life, and if what Dyl was saying was true, he HAD helped her out of a jam. OK, her mind was made up. She would do it.
"Where is he injured?" she asked quickly. By the looks of it, she didn't have long.
Dyl showed her a deep cut in his side, through which he was losing blood, and a strong blow to the head, along with deep gashes in his chest, looking to be made by a spear.
She didn't know if she could do it. He was already too weak. But she would try it.
"This is going to be difficult." she warned Dyl. "And it may hurt him. So stand by in case he comes to."
Dyl looked frightened, but nodded.
First she borrowed some herbs from a nearby woman. Then she began to crush them into a paste, and put them into his major wounds. After he showed no signes of living, she began to be worried. His pulse was far too slow to be a good sign. His breath was shallow, and weak. She knew that if something drastic didn't happen soon, he would die.
The thought of that scared her. Imensly. That couldn't happen. She needed to find out more about him, and how he would affect her.
Panic filled her mind, and then suddenly, the desire to heal him completely began to fill her. Seeming to start from her crown, down to her toes, a tingling started. Then, as fast and seemingly as powerful as lightning, she released the burning energy that seemed to be feeding on her life light.
As she let go of his arm, she saw his eyes flutter, and the scars and wounds vanishing from him.
Then she fainted from sheer exhaustion.

(written by guineagal. Way to go! splendid job!)