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Category Archives: The Drums of War

An ongoing fantasy story. Each part is written to play with multiple tropes. Updates Tuesday-ish.

Drums of War – Part #8 – Aggressions

14 Wednesday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

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Tags

Drums of War, fantasy, Gwen, Keita, Turgis

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Gwendolyn hustled out into the private garden of the Warden’s headquarters, her cloak hastily tossed over her shoulders. Turgis had a goofy smile plastered over his face as he waved in greeting to her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked fiercely, pulling him away from the window and down a well-forested path. Turgis laughed at her discomfort, gesturing behind him to where Keita hid in the woods. “I thought you were smarter than this, you know most of the Wardens here wouldn’t think twice about turning you into fertilizer for trespassing.” Turgis rolled his eyes.

“Aye, well, I wanted to see you again.” Gwen snorted.

“Right after I caught you with a new lady? You might be dumber than I thought.”

“Bah! I’m old enough to be Keita’s father. I was just trying to keep her out of trouble.” Gwen gave him a doubtful look.

“So why are you here now, with her?” She stopped walking away and turned to stare at him. She’d led them to a small grove beneath a huge willow tree, the leaves drooped dense and green around them. “The truth this time.”

Turgis gave her a mischievous smile. “Stirring up some trouble.”

“So let me get this straight. She needs to see the Oak of Ages for this quest of hers. That doesn’t really explain where you fit in.” Gwen said, one explanation later. Turgis shrugged.

“I’m helping. She seemed a little lost.”

“Hey!” Keita exclaimed beside him. “I just got here, I would have found my way eventually. I’m not that helpless.” Turgis sighed.

“Keita, look, are you going to do this whether I’m here or not?”

“Of course I am!” She said, hands set on her hips.

“And will this be significantly easier with my help?” The girl fell silent, glowering. “Then I suggest you start accepting my help and stop worrying about the why. I have my reasons.” He turned back to Gwendolyn, who had watched the interaction. “So, can you help us out?”

Gwen arched an eyebrow at Turgis, “Well, I can certainly help bring you to the Oak of Ages, come this way.”

Keita fell into step beside the druid as she led the way through the woods. Gwen smiled at her. “The Oak is actually open to all visitors, so your elder should already be there. The Oak is the center of the power in Cetrius, that all the Wardens draw from. Without it, all the plants across the neighbouring kingdoms would wilt and die.”

Keita listened to Gwen’s speech curiously. “So, what’s to prevent someone from trying to destroy it then?” Turgis snorted from behind her.

“She is.” He said, gesturing to Gwen. Keita sized up the young girl, taking in her flowing hair filled with flowers and short stature.

“She doesn’t look that tough.” She said dismissively, “I could probably take her.” Gwen raised an eyebrow as Turgis chuckled.

“You think so?” Gwen asked, glancing around at the surroundings. Keita puffed out her chest.

“Yes, any time, Warden.” She said condescendingly. Gwen sighed, shrugging at Turgis who was still laughing.

“Is this a good place to fight, Keita?” She asked, gesturing at the clearing. Keita took in the area, a sparsely wooded clearing about 20 feet across.

“Perfect.” She said, breaking into a wide grin. “Back off, old man, I don’t need you coming to my rescue this time.” Gwen gave Turgis’s back a hard stare as he retreated further down the path. Gwen backed off several steps from Keita as Turgis signalled the start of the fight.

“Start!!” He declared from a safe distance. The barbarian lunged at the small druid fiercely, but tripped just short of reaching her, with a vine wrapped tightly about one leg. She went to rip it off, but no sooner had she torn free of that one that another had wrapped itself firmly about one arm. Soon she was buried beneath a squirming mass of vines that writhed around her. Turgis nudged her with his toe.

“Do you give up?” He asked, holding back his laughter. A low growl emerged from the greenery, and a hand quickly shot out towards his leg, jerking him off feet. He landed heavily beside the girl, a pair of grey eyes glowering out at him from beneath a thick vine crawling along her eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who wanted to fight the Warden beside ‘Their source of power.'” He said, kicking a questing vine off his ankle as he stood up again. She growled at him, still struggling against the vines as he backed away.

“Should we keep walking?” Gwen asked from across the clearing. She held one hand tightly clenched at her side as the flowers in her hair glowed faintly, but otherwise seemed unconcerned with the blight of the barbarian girl.

“I suppose we may as well.” Turgis said, heading towards her and the path. As he reached the path, he heard Keita cry out.

“Enough!” She yelled, now having struggled her way onto her knees beneath the vines. Gwen relaxed her fist and the vines abruptly stop moving, though not retracting. As Keita tore the remaining vines off, Turgis reached out and lightly touched on of the flowers in Gwen’s hair. It broke off into his palm, the glow having faded away. He looked at Gwen curiously, but she shrugged it off.

“It’ll grow back.” She said, unconcerned. Keita came up, pulling weeds from her hair and set off down the path, with Gwen falling in step beside her. Turgis tucked the delicate blossom into his cloak as he followed after the two girls, now animately talking.

Drums of War – Part #6 – Discretion

29 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

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Tags

bards, Drums of War, Sevra, tropes

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Sevra watched from the fireplace as Warden Gwendolyn left the World’s End tavern. Her fingers lightly played over the keys of her accordion as the other end hung limply. The other patrons had lost interest in music after the fight, and were slowly disappearing off into the night.

“Well, there she goes. You know Gwendolyn won’t do anything to the Captain even if she catches him, right?” She gave Dante a hard stare, but he just gave her his insufferably smug smile.

“All according to plan. You worry too much, Sev.” He propped his legs up on the nearby table as he tuned his guitar. She rolled her eyes.

“Lyra, you tell him.” She shrugged off the accordion, rubbing her sore shoulder as the young girl pouted, a distance look on her face.

“Sev is right, Dante, I think Gwen is actually looking forward to seeing Turgis more than anything.” She looked up at Sevra looking especially small beneath her harp. “How did you know, she’s broadcasting her emotions so faintly I could barely hear them.” Sevra smirked, ruffling the girl’s blonde hair.

“I don’t need Empathy to recognize that she cares about him, kiddo, you could see it in her smile when she figured out who Dante was describing.” She turned to address Dante again. “So, Fearless Leader, what’s the plan then?” Dante rubbed the greying stubble on his chin.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Sevra stared at him slack-jawed.

“Precisely. It’s pretty obvious that Turgis has no intention of slaying our dear prince tonight. In fact, he may have saved him should a less-than-friendly Warden have been the one on scene tonight. So I’d say our directions as convert bodyguards is mission accomplished, wouldn’t you?” He smiled at her knowingly. Sevra scowled at him.

“I’d say this strategy of yours is ridiculously short-sighted. We’re talking about Turgis Balborkanon, Captain of the Iron Hawks. He’s practically King Jaximus’s right hand man, and you’re letting him wander off with the Crown Prince in the dark!” A few curious patrons glanced over, alarmed by her raising voice, but Dante’s smile didn’t falter.

“What would you suggest then?” He asked, quietly strumming his guitar. The curious patrons’ eyes looked away, their eyes glazing over as they decided nothing interesting was going on by the fire. Sevra lowered her voice to a harsh whisper.

“I would kill Turgis. Without him, Lucien would see no reason to come risk himself out here every month.” Dante’s smile widened.

“I see. And what of the Wardens?” Sevra shrugged.

“This neutral zone is only as strong as the people enforcing it. And behind their magic, that’s all the Warden are. Mere people, not omnipotent gods. They can’t be everywhere at once.” Dante nodded, turning to the young harpist and fiddler who watched Sevra with wide eyes.

“Lyra, Liam, what do you think of Sevra’s plan?” He asked the twins. Liam exchanged a look with his sister, putting down his instrument.

“I think it’s dangerous to attack him in a neutral town. If the Wardens caught us, we’d be lucky if they let us live.” Liam said cautiously. His sister nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be the good guys.” Dante nodded in approval, making both twins glow.

“There you go, Sev, no murder tonight. Liam, where are they now?” The boy closed his eyes in concentration.

“Lucien is with Curtis, they’re moving fast towards Avesta. Turgis is walking with that other girl still.”

“I see. What about Gwendolyn and Raike?” Liam screwed his eyes closed tighter.

“Raike is near Turgis and the barbarian. Gwen is approaching their location.” Dante nodded.

“Alright.  Sevra, I want you to go find Raike, send him back to me to report. No murder.” He added playfully, his fingers already striking up a new song. Sev sighed, sliding her accordion under Liam’s chair.

“Watch that for me.” She requested as he whispered an address in her ear. As she slipped out of the warm tavern into the rain she could hear the music rising up behind her.

After a brief search, she sidled up beside Raike’s dark form on the rooftop. He watched the figures below with the calm of a stone gargoyle, acknowledging her arrival with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

“Gwen let them go with a warning.” He whispered, his voice seeming to be for her ears only. Sevra held back a huff of frustration.

“I told Dante she would.” She whispered back fiercely. Raike squeezed her hand gently as she watched the two dark figures wander down the street. “Dante wants you to head back and give him a report.” She whispered softly, “I’ll watch these two a bit longer.” With a final squeeze, Raike vanished off into the night, leaving her alone. She got up to find a new vantage point.

She tailed the couple on foot, not liking the look of the rain-slicked rooftops. Luckily the pair took a straight path through the streets, confidentially not looking back more than once. It seemed cocky to Sevra, almost too trusting of the Warden’s power. Her fingers drifted towards the small brooch on her sleeve, a simple serpent cast in silver. The pin was fused with a potent poison, a simple prick would be all she needed to kill the man now. Dante’s voice echoed in her brain, warning her off, but he wasn’t here, and she was. As she watched, the pair paused outside an inn, the taller Turgis pulling open the door for the smaller girl. He paused outside the door, looking skyward as if to calm himself. She was closing the distance quickly, soon she’d be close enough to touch him. A simple pinprick was all she needed, it wouldn’t even take effect for days. Enough time to clear the scene, enough time to alleviate suspicions. She could be safely in Avesta before he knew anything was wrong. He glanced her way just as she bumped into him, muttering a quick apology as she pushed past. She thought she caught a flash of recognition on his face as their eyes met, but then she was off, hurrying down the road.

She safely pinned serpent brooch back to her cuff. Frowning slightly, she took the next corner, heading back towards the warmth of the World’s End tavern.

To be continued

Drums of War – Part #5 – Explanations

22 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

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Tags

Drums of War, Hopeless War, Keita, Part 5, Tropeday, tropes, Turgis

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Turgis pulled the door shut to the room of the inn and turned to Keita who was sitting on the edge of a bed that took up most of the room.  The room was nothing fancy, but it would do.

“So you want my story, you say. Well, for that I need to explain the current war. I don’t suppose you know much of it, do you?” Keita shook her head, fatigue starting to push the suspicion out of her expression. Turgis sat down beside her. “Well, there’s a lot to this story, but properly, it started back nearly 17 years, before Lucien was even born.”

“Back then, I was just the weapon master’s apprentice.  But also a friend to the crown prince of Kalmar, Tibalt Cromwell.  We were about the same age, and I guess he just needed someone who wasn’t his elder to talk to.  Mostly though, we were sparring partners.  His younger brother, Jaximus, worshipped the ground Tibalt walked on so he was forever underfoot.  Tibalt used to try to give him the slip but I couldn’t disrespect a prince like that.”

“One year, there was this ball to be held in the kingdom of Avesta, Lucien’s kingdom. Some fancy event with all the nobles of neighbouring lands, and Tibalt decided he wanted sneak me in as his servant.  This was a once in a lifetime chance, so I jumped on the oppurtunity.  As we travelled, Tibalt confided in me that he was nervous about this ball.  He was supposed to meet the woman he was betrothed to, the Lady Deirdre, from the kingdom of Gaina.  It was the first time they’d be meeting, but the betrothal had been arranged when they were young.  The two met before the ball and they were both tense as could be.  But well, when Tibalt introduced Jaximus to her, I could see that the boy was smitten.  We barely saw him that day as he followed Deirdre about, hoping for the chance to get her a drink or something.”

“The night of the ball, there were lovely ladies swirling all about and a thousand delicacies set out.  Despite that, Jax could barely take his eyes off the Lady Deirdre.  Which is probably why he was the one to notice when she and Saul Suncrown from Avesta snuck away from the ball. When Saul came back… Well, Jax was barely 15 at the time.  But that hardly stopped him from challenging Saul to a duel, right there in front of the whole ball. Accused him of sullying Deirdre honour and humiliating his brother or some such nonsense.” Turgis paused for a moment, taking a swig from a small flask.  Keita snorted.

“Your people have such confusing ways.  Is it not the lady’s choice to talk to a man?”

“Aye well, Jax may have been out of line, but it is not my place to question the prince.  And Saul could hardly ignore that challenge, not after his honour was called into question in front of everyone.  And so a duel was arranged, and swords brought out.  Jaximus was a good fighter, I’d sparred with him myself, but Saul was several years older, bigger, stronger and faster.  Jax barely stood a chance.  Saul quickly overpowered him, and backed him into a wall in his fury. He clearly had it in his head that he was going to kill him, but just as he went for the killing blow… Tibalt jumped in the way, shielding his brother and was run through himself.”

“Everything sort of went downhill from there. When Saul realized he’d killed Tibalt, he ran off and Deirdre followed him. Jaximus for his part was a mess.  The next few days were a blur, and I think Jaximus almost hoped that now that he was the crown prince, he would be the one to marry Lady Deirdre.  However, shortly after the funeral her father announced she would be marrying Saul, and the marriage was arranged for barely a week later.  Lucien was born soon after they were married, so perhaps the prince was onto something.”

“Everything calmed down a bit after that.  Later, Jaximus sent me to be the weaponsmaster in Avesta’s court. ‘A show of good faith,’ He said.  I got to know young Lucien well, he was fascinated with the armoury and the weapons in there.  I trained him to fight myself.  At first, Jaximus would send me regular letters, always asking about the Lady Deirdre, but she seemed happily in love to me.  Eventually, the letters slowed down, and then there came a point when the letters stopped.  I’d started to wonder if Jaximus had forgotten me, but the 4 years ago, I got a letter asking me to resign my position and return to Kalmar.”

“I arrived just in time for his Coronation, but this was not the same man who sent me away years ago.  He seemed like a man haunted.  When I finally got a chance to talk to him, it seemed all he wanted to know about was Queen Deirdre.  When I had told him all I knew, he thanked me and made me Captain of the Guard.  He sent the Iron Hawks and me off to the Spinetail pass, and privately asked me to ‘antagonize’ the border.  It seemed to me that he was hoping to provoke the war and make his own opportunities with Saul’s Queen.”  Turgis stretched the knots out of his back.

“But then, why is not really my job.  All I know is he wanted a war, and it’s my job to help him win.  Which I believe would be helped with the Ora tribes harassing them from within the kingdom itself.”  Turgis glanced Keita, who was laying on her back on the bed. “Does that satisfy your curiosity, or do you have any other questions?”

“Just one.” She replied, pointing at the bed below her, “Is this the bed? I’m sleeping here tonight.” Turgis laughed.

“Aye, that’s the bed. You can have it, I’m drunk enough to sleep on the floor tonight.”

To be continued

Drums of War – Part #4 – Accusation

16 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

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Tags

druids, Keita, part 4, Story, Tropeday, tropes, Turgis, Warden

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Standing on the dark street, Keita glared at Turgis and his offer of help, her grey eyes reflecting suspicion.

“No, I don’t trust this.”  She said as she planted her hands on her hips.   “Since I walked into that bar, you’ve explained nothing of yourself, nor your relationship with a boy who should be your enemy but you treat as like a nephew. Meanwhile, we’ve talked far too much of me, a stranger off the street. No, Turgis Balborkanon, before I accept your offer of help, you will tell me how you fit into this story first.”

Turgis eyed up the girl as she stared him down.  Mentally, he rolled his eyes then began walking down the street, away from the angry barbarian.

“Come on then.” He said gruffly, pulling up his hood against the drizzling rain.  Keita stood her ground a moment longer before realizing he wasn’t waiting.

“Where are you going?” She asked, not ready to give up ground so easily.

“To an inn,” He called back. “Unless you’d like to continue this conversation in the rain.” Keita considered this for a moment before falling in beside him, her long legs quickly closing the distance.

“Besides,” Turgis muttered under his breath, “If we just stand around here talking all night, the Wardens will be-“

“Right behind you?” Asked a young, clear voice. Turgis froze like a deer, turning slowly to see the sudden visitor. Behind them stood a young girl, no older than 16, with deep, brown skin and hair. Her eyes shone vibrantly green in the light of the lamp she carried, and Keita could see small, white flowers woven through her curly hair. She wore a green cloak, pinned at her throat with an emerald brooch in the shape of a leaf that glittered like her ageless eyes. Turgis gave a slight bow, subtly shifting his position to stand between the new arrival and Keita.

“Good evening, Gwendolyn. What brings a lovely lady like yourself out on a dreary night such as this?” Gwen smiled slightly at the compliment.

“A bar fight broke out at the World’s End tavern. I noticed tonight was the full moon again, I thought you and Prince Lucien may have been there still. But it seems you two left early tonight.” She jerked her head towards the bright patch of clouds left by the moon in the sky as she spoke, an edge of suspicion to her voice.  Turgis looked a little sheepish.

“Aye, Lucien was a little deep in the cups tonight, and you know how the boy can get.  I thought it would be best we left early. We left just as the fight was starting.” Gwen narrowed her eyes slightly.

“So you saw nothing then?”

“You’ve known me for twenty years, Gwen. If I was involved in a fight, I’d be ending it.”  Turgis stated bluntly.  Gwendolyn smiled slightly.

“That is true enough. Well, have a good night, Turgis.” As Turgis turned away, pushing Keita along in front of him, she added, “Oh, one more thing.” Pulling out a small hunting knife from her pocket,  she gave it a gentle toss in the air, catching it as it fell.

“Someone left this at the tavern. One of the Wardens said it looked like a traditional knife from the members of the Ora tribes.  He also mentioned that one had come through his station tonight, heading into town.” Her eyes flashed towards Keita’s stiffening back as she continued. “Some of the locals said you may have left with a woman with a similar description.  She would have strange, scarred markings on her face, with braided hair. If you see her, you can let her know she can pick it up with her bow when she leaves.” She smiled warmly to Turgis’s shocked expression as she turned to leave. “Have a good night.”

To be continued

Drums of War #3 – Confrontation

07 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

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Tags

fantasy, Keita, Lucien, part 3, Story, The Drums of War, tropes, Turgis

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Keita brushed away Turgis’s concern without a glance towards the young man rejoining the table.

“No, old man, I will tell you precisely how I intend to retake my people’s holy lands. I will gather an army of my people’s finest warriors, wherever they may be scattered across the plains. I will tell them that this supposed kingdom of justice has stolen our lands and defiled our sacred rituals when our backs were turned. And with them, I will raze this village and it’s people to ashes, and sanctify the lands with their blood.” She scowled at the older man until a heavy hand shook table, breaking the uneasy silence. Lucien loomed over the table.

“Do you mean to tell me that you will kill my citizens for settling a new location under my father’s orders?” His voice was a low growl that rumbled in the unnatural hush of the tavern. A few curious heads had began to turn towards the angry youth in the back corner. Turgis nodded to them and most turned back to their conversations and the music which had begun to play again, but some were still watching when the woman with the dark cloak quickly stood herself with another heavy thunk, staring down the blonde man. Only Turgis saw the glint of her hunting knife, buried in the oak table.

“Yes, boy prince, I mean precisely that.” She hissed back at him. Turgis stood quickly himself, laying one hand atop Keita’s, the knife pinned to the table below, and the other on Lucien’s shoulder.

“Whoa, let’s rein this in a bit, you two. Surely you don’t mean to start a fight in-”

“Shut up, Turgis.” Lucien snapped, not taking his eyes off Keita, “You are not my mentor anymore.” Keita merely glowered at Turgis, conveying the same message in her body language before returning the stare at Lucien. Turgis rolled his eyes and after a quick twist with his wrist, walked away towards the bar, pocketing the small hunting knife and leaving the two youths to glower at each other.

“That looks like it’s about to turn ugly.” The barkeep said as Turgis walked up close to the bar.

“Any moment now.” Turgis replied quietly, as a loud crash boomed behind him. Without looking back, he pulled a handful of gold coins out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. “I assume this is enough to tell the Wardens this was a barfight between two drunk locals.” The barkeep’s eyes glittered at the gold, it was more than he’d make in a month. His eyes flicked back to the two fighters behind the grizzled veteran, trying not to look too eager.

“Only if you can clear them out before the Wardens arrive themselves. And I cannot speak for the patrons.” Turgis nodded.

“That’ll do.” He flicked the small knife behind the counter, adding an extra coin to the pile. “For the mug.” He said with a wink, grabbing one of the bar patron’s mug of ale off the counter beside him. The patron was too engrossed with the spectacle at the back of the tavern to notice.

He walked back towards the two fighters, assessing the damage. The table was on it’s side, pushed to the side of the clearing the other patrons had made around the two fighters. Keita crouched in the back corner, taking in everyone at a glance. As he watched, one of the tavern patrons inched closer to her, jostled by encroaching crowd, only to retreat as she hissed fiercely at him. There was a small smear of blood near her mouth.

Lucien by contrast appeared deadly calm. His back to the crowd, his hands up and feet firmly planted, Turgis felt a moment of pride before he brought the mug crashing into Lucien’s temple. The boy crumbled to the floor in a heap. Keita lunged forward towards him, only to be intercepted by Turgis grappling her to the floor. The two grappled, Keita struggling violently against the older man, but eventually his greater strength and size won out, leaving her pinned firmly to the floor.

“Stop struggling.” He instructed. Lucien came to with a groan, struggling to bring himself upright. “And you boy, keep your ass on the ground or so help me, I will let this hellcat kill you and report it as a victory.” Lucien sat heavily on the ground, dimly probing his throbbing temple. “Now then,” Turgis whispered to the barbarian he had pinned beneath him, “I’m assuming you don’t know much about Cetrius, being from out of town and all. Let me assure you, the druids don’t take very kindly to out-of-towners bringing the war into their town. If you would like any chance at getting out of here alive and reclaiming your ancestral grounds, you will get up and follow me out of here without a fight. Agreed?” The girl’s grey eyes blazed with a hidden anger.

“Agreed.” Turgis rose to his feet smoothly, walking over to pull the dazed boy to his feet. He draped Lucien’s arm over his shoulders and half dragged him to the door as Keita dusted herself off and followed behind, pulling up her hood as soon as they stepped out into the drizzling rain.

“Where is your coachman, Luc?” Turgis asked once the tavern was well behind them.

“Probably at Trita’s Palace still.” He muttered, still dazed. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”

“I was hoping to knock some sense into your thick skull.” He replied affably as they approached the seedy location. The coachman stood beneath a small awning, pipe in hand as they approached. “Ho, Curt!” He called out, “The prince seems a little down in the cups tonight. I think it’s time to head back to Avesta tonight.”

As Curt climbed to the front of the coach, he tipped his hat towards Turgis. “You’re a good man, Turgis. Shame we had to lose you to the enemy.”

“I promised his father I’d watch out for him.” Turgis said of the boy. “And I am a man of my word.” He waved as the two drove off into the night, then turned to the sulking girl. “As for you, I’d like to help you achieve your destiny.” The girl broke out of her sulk abruptly.

“Would that not break your promise?” She asked, eyes flashing with suspicion. Turgis shrugged.

“My oath to my King supersedes that promise. But here, I fear the Druid’s law more than the King’s wrath.” He smiled smugly, “And I made no promise to watch out for the prince’s citizens.”

To be continued…

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Drums of War #2 – Interactions

31 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Creative Writing, fantasy, part 2, Story, The Drums of War, tropes

Part 1

Keita curled her hand about her mug of ale and looked at the two men sitting across from her. The two men appeared to be polar opposites of each other, the one young and fair and the other old and rugged, but that didn’t stop the easy camaraderie between them. “So it’s a story you want then,” She began. “I suppose I can oblige.”

“You see, I am a member of the Ora tribe. My parents were amongst the Chosen whom wander about the Irati plains.” Lucien started slightly, though Turgis simply looked confused. Noticing the older man’s confusion, he explained.

“They’re barbarian tribes, Turgis. They roam about the plains in packs, killing off anyone they come across. The Crown’s Guard has been trying to stop them for years so we could settle the lands.” Keita glared daggers from steely grey eyes at the young prince. Turgis scoffed, interrupting Lucien’s rant before he gained steam.

“I think you’ve offended the lady. Please, continue with your story Keita.”

“As I was saying,” Keita began, still glaring at Lucien, “My parents were among the Chosen whom wander the plains, as our people have done for generations upon generations, defending our lands from those whom mean to take it.” Lucien muttered something under his breath about travellers and merchants, but Turgis fixed him with a glare of his own and he opted for a stubborn pout as Keita continued her story.

“Among the Chosen there is a tradition that when a child has come of age, they must set out on their own journey towards our sacred site. There, they will meet with the Elders of the Ora, and their destiny will be decided. Most do not return to their parent’s tribes after their journey.”

“Two months ago, I set out on my own journey to the sacred site. Our tribe was far from the site when I began, but the path is simple. The sacred site is at the head of the Medina river, which begins in the woods beyond the plains, but forks and flows throughout the plains. But when I arrived, there were no elders to greet me. Instead, there was a town wall and Avesta guards.” Keita focused her gaze on Lucien. “When I requested entry through the gates to visit the sacred site, the guards instead chose to open fire.” Lucien began to turn a brilliant shade of red.

“I brought down one man with my throwing knife, he was clearly not expecting me to fight back…” She smiled wickedly as her fingers traced a small blonde braid woven into her hair, “But then they opened the doors, and ten more men charged out at me. I…” She paused, biting her lip, “A stranger came running out of the gates behind them. He was armed with a bow and not dressed like a guard. With his help, I killed the rest, but he urged me to come with him to a small hut outside the gates.”

“As we walked, he explained that the town had been formed recently, under the order of the King. When the first of the Ora came asking permission to see the sacred site, they had let him in, but upon arriving at the river head, the man had flown into a fury, killing many villagers before he was killed himself. Since then, they had erected a fence, and turned away any Ora who came.”

“The stranger believed that the villagers had unknowingly destroyed what was once the sacred site but said that many others had died trying to turn away the journeying Oras. When he met the Elders while hunting, he had warned them not to go to the town. Instead, the Elders had scattered, each leaving in a different direction to seek an answer from the sacred sites of their ancestors. The oldest, Elder Rosenth, remained behind, hidden in the man’s hut. Alone, she was only able to give me part of my destiny. To reclaim our sacred grounds.”

Turgis turned to Lucien, cutting off the young man just as he opened his mouth. “Lucien, I believe I’ve won this bet, go buy the next round of drinks.” Lucien spluttered, his face having grown steadily redder and angrier for several minutes.

“What? No, Turgi-”

“Go.” Turgis forcefully pushed him out of the booth until both men were standing. “Before you do something stupid.” He said quietly. Lucien glared at the older man and whispered fiercely,

“You heard her, she killed several of my men. Those are good people in Avendale, and some traitor in the village helped!”

“She ran.” Turgis said firmly. “Now go get the drinks before you do something stupid like start a fight in neutral territory.” Lucien glowered at him before turning and pushing his way towards the bar. Keita smiled smugly at his back as Turgis sat back down.

“Now my dear, that is an interesting tale, but what brings you so far out this way? Cetrius is neutral grounds, the druids won’t take kindly to you building an army in this town.” Keita’s smile faded for slightly embarassed one.

“Ah well, it was only part of the destiny. Rosenth insisted I find the other six Elders to hear the rest of the destiny before taking action. One of them was headed this way.” Turgis smiled.

“You really have no idea how you’re going to take on a whole town, do you?” He asked. Keita blushed, making the scars along her cheek stand out sharply, and opened her mouth to say something angrily, when three mugs of beers plunked down on the table. Turgis grabbed one. “Welcome back, Lucien! I retract my question, Keita. Perhaps now would be a good time to move to lighter topics.” He smiled warmly at the two younger people’s perplexed looks.

To Be Continued

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Drums of War #1 – Introductions

21 Friday Mar 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Creative Writing, fantasy, part 1, Story, The Drums of War, tropes

The atmosphere was lively at the World’s End Tavern that night, with minstrels playing about the fire and a roaring game of poker around one of the bigger tables. As such, it nearly went unnoticed when a lone stranger came in with their hood held close, letting in the wind and rain that the heavy doors held at bay. With few words, the stranger ordered a mug of ale at the bar, and slunk to an unoccupied booth in the back corner of the tavern.

Near unnoticed, but not completely so. At the bar, Turgis Balborkanon, captain of the Iron Hawks for the kingdom of Kalmar, nudged his bar mate in the ribs. With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the stranger in the back. The man beside him glanced over, taking in the stranger. As one, they both got up from their stools and headed over toward the back table.

Walking alongside each other, the two men appeared very dissimilar. Turgis’s companion wore plain clothes, no different than many of the men in the tavern, however his golden hair, fair skin and piercing blue eyes marked him as different. He looked to be about 19 years old, with boyish good looks and charm that made many caused many of the barmaids to have small “accidents” when he walked by. On the other hand, the captain had quite the opposite effect on the young barmaids, many of them suddenly became quite interested in where they were walking. He was older, with dark hair, and he had a dark shadow of stubble, which sharply highlighted a small white scar near his the corner of his mouth. It gave him the illusion of a permanent scowl, which didn’t extend up to his bright green eyes. Both men carried themselves with a similar gait, however. The walk of a soldier, used to carrying the weight of armour and weapons, though neither wore those trappings now. The two men sat down across the table from the stranger.

“Hello, good sir, do you mind if we sit with you?” The young man asked, belatedly. The stranger sighed, and pushed back her hood.

“I don’t suppose there’s any stopping you, is there?” She asked, wryly. The woman’s appearance startled the two men. She had deep, grey eyes, and her hair fell over her shoulder in a single, long braid. Her hair appeared to be black, but woven into the braid was a dozen different colours of hair, sometimes braided into smaller braids, other times bound or twisted with coloured threads. Blondes, browns and reds streaked through the braid, with small darts of blue and green threads between them. But more shockingly was the scar burst pattern on her cheek, standing out as bold scars against her pale skin. The marks appeared deliberate, beginning around her left eye where they showed clearly in red and fading to paler scars that continued down the side of her face, shining in the firelight. Beneath her deep green cloak, she wore simple leather armour, with a small hunting knife bound to her belt with a leather strap. The older man chuckled.

“No, probably not. I’d like to introduce myself. I am Turgis Balborkanon, captain of the Iron Hawks for the kingdom of Kalmar, and my companion here is Prince Lucien, sometimes called the Protector of the Light in his father’s kingdom of Avesta. The two of us were hoping you could settle a debate between us.” The woman’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you two not sworn enemies? What has brought you to be drinking buddies at World’s End?” Lucien gave a half shrug.

“It is a neutral zone, after all. The druids strip anyone entering the city of weapons and armour.”

“More of a truce zone, in actual fact. But Lucien and I used to be buddies, before his father decided to raid Anniseburg and kicked off this war.” Turgis sipped his ale while Lucien scowled.

“Perhaps if the people of Anniseburg hadn’t decided to infiltrate the city of Nora and defile their dead with necromancy and witchcraft, my father would not have seen reason to invade Kalmar!” Lucien ranted, “Not to mention the countless “incidents” with “bandits” our merchants and travellers had encountered crossing the Spinetail mountain pass, which was supposed to be protected by the Iron Hawks themselves!” Turgis waved off the boy impatiently.

“At any rate, this is an old debate, and not the one that brings us here. We couldn’t help but notice you seemed to enter under a dark storm cloud than the one brewing outside. We hoped that you might share your tale with us, Miss…?” Turgis trailed off, hoping to coax a name from the strange woman.

“Not a Miss.” The woman replied. “Keita. Keita Tennerose. And I’ll share my tale with you, though it is a long one…”

To Be Continued

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