• About

LexiBlog

~ Stories for the chronically bored

LexiBlog

Tag Archives: The Drums of War

Drums of War #3 – Confrontation

07 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

≈ Leave a comment

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…

Continue reading →

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

Continue reading →

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

Continue reading →

Follow LexiBlog on WordPress.com

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 319 other followers

Categories

  • Demons and Angels
  • Established Universe
  • NaNoWriMo
  • Odds and Ends
  • Poetry
  • Pokemon
  • Ramblings
  • Stories
  • The Drums of War
  • The Librarian's Code
  • water
  • Will & Dia
  • Witching Time
  • Writing Advice

Archives

  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 319 other followers

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • LexiBlog
    • Join 319 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • LexiBlog
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar