Arlor: The Guardians Return | Opening scene
PLEASE NOTE:
There are some graphic and gorey parts to this opening scene. Please, if you are easily offended, skip over the fight towards the end.
I wrote this on my tablet, the app I use gets really slow after more than 1000 words (new app suggestions are most welcome!), so please bear with any typos or disjointed sentences. I'll update the post if I see any or if any are pointed out.
It's around 2200 words at this point, which is only about 4 pages of a normal book. I'll try and add some more soon.
Thanks for reading, any and all suggestions or criticism is appreciated.
Enjoy :)
CHAPTER ONE
The setting sun in the Arlorian sky threw a golden red glow upon the land as day faded inexorably into dusk. The large and dense trees of the vast Ydra forest cast long, dark shadows upon the many highways, footpaths and clearings that cut through, or were dotted around the range. A lonely wagon and it's cargo followed the main, fairly muddy, highway through Ydra, squeaking every inch of the way. Apart from the squeaking, which was getting increastingly more annoying as the day wore on, Klick was finding the journey quite pleasant. As a Nott he was used to more conventional means of transport, like teleporting for instance, but found the long journey to be surprisingly enjoyable. He was filled with a sense of peace as the wangon trundled on, it wasn't all that comfortable but that didn't serve to ruin the experience. He gazed out into the darkening forest, catching glimpses of Dearies silhouetted by the bad light and thought of his homeland. Shuyal was majestic, civilized, magical and beautiful. Teleporters in every quarter for quick and easy travelling. Even some, more meaningful parts of the Forest of shades had teleporters. He thought of his home, on the east side, south quarter of the man city. Quaint and small, no adornments on his wall, room enough for his small bed, cooking apparatus and his luxurious red leather chair that he placed in front of the hearth. In all honesty, he did not miss it. He realized then, with strange clarity, that he was lonely in Shuyal. Even though he had only met the man transporting him across arlor a short while ago, he already felt happier. He was travelling with someone who hadn't sought to insult or demean him. The wagon that was carrying them, however, wasn't what Klick would have called worthy of use.
When he had watched the wagon pull up at Windmoore harbour he had almost pretended to walk away. The vehicle was barely able to traverse the cobble stone street it was rolling along, looked as if it had three round wheels and a fourth square which gave it what could only be described as a limp and was painted in a horrific Green colour. Klick had no idea why the latter bothered him, but it did. Instead of walking off and looking like a complete idiot, Klick had simply pretended not to notice the monstrosity limp its way slowly up the road. It grinded to a halt beside him.
‘I'm heading to Kraag, ill happily carry you there for 5 gold peices. I'll warn you though, it's not exactly comfy.' Said the driver. A behemoth of a man with arms the size of small tree trunks and a deep booming voice. Klick looked up into the giants face. A flat nose in between two sunken, grey eyes and a thin lipped mouth surrounded by a mass of ginger hair.
'Who painted your Wagon?' Asked Klick.
'I did, do you like it?' Said the giant with a wide grin.
'No, it's awful. It's almost as if you gave the brush to one of your oxen an asked him to paint it.' Klick regretted it all instantly. If someone the size of small house asks if you like their painting, you say yes and keep your face intact, he had thought. The giants eyes hardened for a heartbeat and then he laughed with genuine good humour.
'I like you Nott. The name is Thorn, would you like a hand with your belongings?' Klick had been surprised, to say the least. He had expected a good shouting at but instead was presented with the opposite. Arlorians were a little odd, though, he reasoned.
'I this the fastest way to Kraag?' He asked.
'No.'
'Well what is?'
'I'll be damned if I know, lad.'
'Helpful aren't you,'
'Not really,' started Thorn. 'Look, ill be honest with you. The rooks patrol the forest all day and all night. I know a few, and ive a bit of a reputation among them, but their numbers are growing daily. One day soon this rickety old wagon and I are going to look like easy pickings to a new group eager to prove themselves. Having a magic wielding nott like yourself on board almost guarantees another safe run hrough Ydra. What do you say?' Klick had neither the inclination or the stomach to tell the giant the truth. He was ashamed by his lie, but oddly releived at the same time. If Thorn believed he had magic, Klick wasn't about to disappoint him.
'I see your point, Thorn. Help would be extremely useful, thankyou.'
A sudden bump in the road brought Klick back to the present. Daydreaming again, Klick. He looked to his left and studied the giant that held the leather reins, steering the massive oxen that were pulling the green abomination. His long red hair was pulled together and tied with a brown leather strap at the nape of his neck. Thorns bushy ginger beard protruded from his face like a thick carpet, the moustache covering his lips. He had a brawlers face, a wide flat nose seperating hard, curved cheekbones and inset grey eyes under thick red brows. He either was, or had been at some point in his life, a warrior, Klick concuded. That made him feel slightly better should they encounter any problems with the group Thorn had mentioned, The Rooks. Personally he had never heard of them, but if a hulking statue of a man was prepared to be cautious of them then they obviously posed some sort of threat. It was galling that Klick lacked enough knowledge of this, or any other group or organization in Arlor, to be of any help or assistance to Thorn should things go awry. Or he could just hurl imaginary fireballs and lightning bolts at them. They'd all be so scared that they wouldn't realize that they weren't on fire or a charcoal mess on the floor and run for their lives. Astonishingly brilliant plan there, Klick.
Planning over, Klick decided to try and sleep for a while. He thought that Thorn, however, would find it rude. Only one way to find out, he thought.
'Would you object if I tried to sleep for a while?' He asked.
'I wouldn't, if I were you. Two more corners and we'll reach a roadblock. They know we're coming.' Thorn stated calmly. 'Don't do anything rash, stay calm and let me do the talking. Understood?'
'Yes, perfectly clear.' Replied Klick, trying to keep his voice even.
'Good. Take the reins,' ordered Thorn as he handed the leather ties to Klick. Klick had no idea what to do with them so did what he does best. Nothing. Thorn stood upon the wagons seat and reached into the back. With a grunt he pulled free a huge double headed axe with blades like butterfly wings. Sitting down, he placed the axe blades first on to the footrest, leaned the shaft against his seat then took the reigns from Klick. They came to the end of the first corner.
'What magic do you know?' Asked Thorn.
'I was hoping you wouldn't ask that question,' replied Klick nervously.
'Why?'
'It's a funny story, really. You see, I don't know any magic.'
'Now is not the time for jokes, Klick. I need to know what you can do so I can plan what I will do. I don't want to be in the way when you make a time field or throw a fireball.'
'I'm not joking. Honestly, I don't know magic. I've never been able to do magic.' He heard the fear and disappointment in his own voice.
Thorns face hardened and his grey eyes looked deep into Klicks. He felt as if the giant could see into his soul and it unnerved him. Thorn said nothing and they came to the end of the second corner, into a roadblock of eight men. Two held small recurve hunting bows. The rest had either spears or halberds and every man had a short sword strapped to his waist. Klicks mouth was unnaturally dry and his bladder felt full to burst. His hands were trembling and he felt rooted to his seat. He glanced at Thorn who looked calm, bordering on an almost bored expression. He wondered how he could be bored at a tim like this. The leader of the group, a stocky man with a short black beard, close cropped hair, cruel eyes and a hawk nose raised his hand for the wagon to stop. Thorn obliged by stepping on the brake pedal. The leader then thrust his spear into the ground and strode over to stand beside the wagon.
'Bit late for you to be travelling through our forest, isn't it?' Asked the man.
'When I travel is my own business, Rook. And last I knew, this wasn't your forest.' Replied Thorn.
'Are you seeking to make me look bad in front of my men?'
'Let's cut the idle chat, shall we? The two men in tree's, tell them to lower their bows and come out where I can see them.' Thorn told the leader.
'Why would I do that?' Asked the man.
'Because if you don't,' replied Thorn, softly, as he wrapped a giant hand around the shaft of his axe, 'ill gut you like a fish. I'm faster than you, I reckon, and by your stance I'd say you were a swordsman. I'd cut you in half before you could pull your blade free.'
Klick watched the exchange in complete silence, barely even breathing. The hawk nosed leader swallowed hard as Thorn stared deep into his eyes. His fear was obvious. But he regained his composure quickly.
'Harrid, Yuri! Come out so our new friends can see you. Lower your bows.' Hawk nose called out. Klick watched as the two bowman entered the clearing from both sides of the road.
'Now, hand over the wagon and any gold you have. If you co-operate then you and your little friend will live. Try anything and we‘ll kill you. Even with magic, you can't kill all of us by yourselves.'
'I know your type,' the giant said calmly. 'You'll kill us anyway.' Suddenly Thorn stood and with a surge of energy hefted his axe lifting it above his head and swung it downwards so hard that Klick saw every muscle in his mammoth back bulge. The butterfly blades came down with practiced precision, entering Hawk noses head above his right eye, cleaving through flesh, bone and sinew to exit through the mans ribcage below his left shoulder in a spray of blood and gore.
'Dive!' Shouted Thorn as he jumped from the wagon. Klick was in shock. He had no time to think, let events sink in. Hawk noses body slid free of its lower half and landed heavily on the floor. A black feathered arrow slammed into the boarding behind him a fingers breadth from his head and he screamed as he threw himself to his right and free of the wagon. He landed with a thud and cursed loudly. Another arrow slashed through the air above his head and he scrambled under the wagon for cover. He could see Thorn surrounded by men. The giant blocked a thrust from a spear and sent back a reverse slash that opened the attackers chest. Then the giant dropped to his knees as a sword cut the air above his head and relieved the weilder of his legs with a savage swing. Rising again Thorn swayed away from a wild thrust and buried his axe in the attackers stomach before tearing it free with a powerful tug. With a bellowing roar of defiance Thorn span with his axe outstretched, smashing through armour, unprotected skin and cartilage. The flat of a blade crashed into the side of his head, causing his skin to split and Klick saw Thorn go down.
An arrow thumped into earth in front of him dragging Klicks attention back onto himself. The giant can't be saved, he thought as he scuried to the back side of the wagon. Save yourself while you still can. He emerged from the relative safety of beneath the wagon and sprinted for all that he was worth, his tiny legs moving faster than they ever had before in their adrenaline fuelled frenzy. An arrow flashed past his face so he swerved to his left.
'Catch the smurf alive boys! Bael will want him!' Shouted one of Rooks from behind him. Fear spurred Klick on. He may be small, but by Vili he could run. He could hear the footsteps of his pursuers closing in behind him and he darted in to the forest, breathing frantically. How close were they? He stumbled as he caught his foot on an exposed rock in the undergrowth, but righted himself alost instantly. Klick used every trick he could think of. He dodged in between trees, jumped fallen logs and smashed through bushes. He thought about climbing a tree, then dismissed the idea. He reached a small river and jumped over it, then scampered down a near vertical slope. Still he heard the Rooks behind him. Something hit Klick on the back of the head as he reached the bottom of the incline that sent him sprawling face first into the twiggy overgrowth and brown earth. Klick pushed his arms beneath him and struggled to lever himself up but fell as his strength deserted him. He could hear them closing in around him, chuckling menacingly, as he faded mercifully into blissful darkness.
