This story was written by me in response to a pillage on a kingdom mate which tickled us silly due to the amount of gold coins stolen ><. Province name and kingdom number hidden to protect him from further shame =p
"Forces from ***************** came through and ravaged our lands! They looted 6 gold coins, 115,362 bushels and 1,056 runes! We lost 147 Archers in this battle."
Chapter 1
It was just another day in the fields on the 10th of march. The sun hung high in the sky, blasting its rays throughout the lands. It had been a good harvest this year. There was more than enough food to feed the army and the peasantry. Nevermind that they had been taxed heavily in order to draft and raise an army for the war against another kingdom. Their Lord Hairy man clam had been good to them and not been unreasonable in his requests. For that, the peasantry adored him and sent their sons to join the war. Occasionally, stray fireballs crashed into the population but that's ok, all had missed his family so far. Pity about his neighbour's family taking the fireball that fell earlier in the month; the neighbour's daughter would have been a fitting wife for his son if he ever returned from the war. He sighed and stuck his hoe into the ground and rested on it with both his arms to take a break.
The ground began to shake.
He looked up and around in puzzlement. From a distance towards the north, a dust cloud can be seen stirred up. 'What in the heavens...?'
He froze up as he finally realized what the dust clouds meant. The dust cloud cleared and he breathed his last as his body hits the ground. 6 gold coins rolled out of his pocket, the last 6 in the whole province. A hand reached down to the ground, snickered and scooped up the coins while all around the formerly alive peasant, food was harvested with swords.
Chapter 2
He felt time slowing down as his body fell backwards.
Everything just seemed so...bright. His body felt as light as it did he was younger...
Yes...younger and when he was not just a farmer...
"Step forth all men aged 18 to 45! Our Lord hath given ye the honor to be drafted into the army."
He trembled in his boots as his father whispered to him that he will be safe and their ancestors will watch over him. It was also of great convenience that the army pays well and his father will receive a portion of his wages and a worthy sum if he ever fell in battle.
That was how he entered the army. Drafted as a soldier, trained in the ways of the sword. Going to war, 'liberating' lands, setting fire to lands, stealing gold, runes and food; carrying those blardy heavy books back where most troops will drop half of it along the way. His least favourite part of the war was slaying the peasants and wizards. The look in their eyes often comes back to haunt him. It could be him one day he thought.
Years after being drafted, he received a letter from the guilds of the province. Curious indeed.
In it, the wizard who wrote the letter exalted him for his services to the country thus far. Well, he had been putting his neck on the line every time he rides to battle. Damn wizzies sit in the comfort and safety of their towers casting spells.
"....we regret to inform you that a powerful fireball slipped through our magic shield despite our very best efforts and landed on your father and the rest of your family. Condolences to you..." Faint words continued after the last statement, written and then hastily scrubbed off. They read as "and your family."
He crushed the letter in his hands.
Was he angry the enemy launched a fireball that killed his father? Or was it the insensitivity of the wizard? Condolences to you and your family? Seriously? They are all dead smart ass. Or was it...the loss of purpose? His wages will no longer go to his father. He now lived only for himself. He will wield a sword that no longer serves to protect but to kill. He made up his mind and left the army the next day.
Where else will he go....other than to sign up for the recruitment of wizards and join the guilds of wizards.
The first order of business was dealing with the wizard who wrote that letter. It was too easy. Through back channels with the guild of thieves, spells could be easily sabotaged and he got paid to do it too; thus blowing that wizard to kingdom come. 6 gold coins he received which he carried with him everywhere in remembrance of his father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, sister and young brother. 1 coin for each of them. The spells he learnt for 2 years was useful when he returned to peasantry and started a family. It was no coincidence that all fireballs had missed his family so far. With runes declared as decayed acquired through the back channels, he could single handedly cast mystic aura and magic shield for his own house. This protected him for the next 4 years in his happy family of 4 with his wife, daughter and son who was drafted into the army. That cheeky son better make it as a knight for that fat pay cheque.
He felt the coins shook in his pants as he fell backwards. They are going to drop out. He does not want that to happen. He breathed his last.
Chapter 3
His body landed with a thud on the ground. The coins rolled out and were taken but it was not the end.
Light enveloped his body and blinded the enemy swordsmen harvesting the food. The swordsmen raised their arms to shield their eyes and lowered them as the light faded. White smoke billowed from where the peasant fell. A shadow loomed within the white smoke and lunged forward at the swordsmen. Two swift strokes fell the two nearest swordsmen.
He was alive!
Best of all, he's back in his prime; the age when he enlisted as a soldier; the body of his youth with the mind and muscle memory of the swordsman skills he honed over the years. He held in his hand the sword he had hidden in his hoe which he pulled out when he was revived. It must have been the animate dead spell that he received just before he left the army. All these years and the spell slumbered till it got activated.
'I'll be damned' exclaimed the thieving enemy swordsman holding on to the 6 gold coins.
'Slay him!' the enemy swordsman shrieked while retreating backwards.
5 nearby swordsmen stopped their harvesting and surrounded him, watching him warily. They have already lost 2 of their own. They don't intend to lose anymore.
His eyes darted around, sizing the 5 up. The closest is a scrawny swordsman who looks the youngest and weakest. Slowly and carefully, he reached for 1 of the fallen swordman's sword and gripped it in his other hand. He had trained himself to wield a sword with either hand but it will be the first time wielding swords in both hands. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the youngest swordsman and had an idea.
Running towards the youngest, he parried off the other 4 and flung 1 of the swords towards the youngest. The inexperienced swordsman flinched and it proved costly for him as the peasant now revived soldier cut him down.
Escape!
The encirclement was broken and he started running towards a nearby bridge.
Chapter 4
Heart thumping in his chest, he raced across the field of crops of shoulder height. Beyond the field lies the bridge and beyond it, the village. He will make his stand at the bridge. That is going to be his way to overcome the disadvantage in numbers and also protect the village from the invaders. The bridge is a narrow bridge, good enough for 2 way traffic but not wide enough for 2 swordsmen to fight shoulder to shoulder together. It is a good place for him to defend. Dashing onto the bridge which forms an arc over a river, he stopped at the middle of the bridge. He caught his breath and turned around to face his enemies. As anticipated, once 2 of them stepped onto the bridge, they realized they could not fight shoulder to shoulder and inched forward cautiously in a column.
"Fight me one on one!" thundered his voice.
He sounded confident when he declared his challenge but could he really defeat 4 of them one after another? He had use the element of surprise and tricks to down 3 of them so far. How far can his skills and stamina bring him against the 4 of them? Perspiration formed on his back and dripped off his chin as well. The 1st swordsman is now 1 step away from his sword's range. The swordsmen knows it. He knows it. The swordsmen stopped. It was now a glaring contest. Nobody moved a muscle. Time seems to slow down. Who will make the 1st move? It was a game of chess in their minds. Should he go on the offense or defense? Moving forward was a double edged sword. Push forward and throw them off balance with a well controlled stroke, slay 1, retreat and repeat. Overextend and he risk losing balance and exposing his back to them. The swordsman dare not move haphazardly as well. The swordsman is on lower ground and will lose in speed and therefore power when swinging a sword upwards. He has the advantage.
"It's over baldy! I have the high ground!" he smirked at the first swordsman. The first swordsman sputtered indignantly racking his brain for a comeback at the verbal attack on his lack of hair. The second swordsman, presumably the senior spoke up.
"You underestimate us! The two of you behind, swim across the river and cut him off!" The remaining two swordsman split off to the left and right side of the bridge and jumped into the river simultaneously.
Fatal mistake. The river looked calm onto the surface but it was deep and the undercurrent was extremely strong.
"Haaaaalpp-------" the two gasped for air before being pulled to the depths of the river. Two down, two to go. Feelings of hope blossomed within him. He will not fall today.
"What's the problem now baldy and killer-of-own-men?" he mocked them, deliberately emphasizing the latter half's newly christened nickname.
Their eyes narrowed in fury. Not only had they lost 5 of their own squad to a lowly peasant but suffering his continued mockery was a great insult to their pride. They will make him pay with his life AFTER they slowly torture him.
Chapter 5
The standoff resumes. Baldy glared even more intensively at him; if that is even possible. If looks can kill, he will be dead a hundred times over. Wielding their swords without moving a muscle, the only sound was from the howling of the wind that had begun to pick up. Small bits of crops drifted in the wind and danced around them; as if they are the prelude to the sword dance that is to come; albeit a deadly one once it begins, IF it begins. The wind gusted, ruffling his hair and doing nothing to baldy's head obviously. All of a sudden, it happened.
The clouds in the sky was blown away, revealing the sun in all its majesty in its high noon position. The rays gradually shone upon the field of crops far behind the 2 swordsmen, picking up speed towards the bridge and then blasted him with its rays.
"Argh!" he squinted as his eyes began to adjust to the strong sunlight.
That was the cue for the 2 swordsmen. Both of them dashed up the bridge in unison and attacked him. He parried instinctively but could not push them back.
Things were not looking good at all. Both of them were working well together; one leaps forward to attack before sidestepping to allow the one behind to follow up on the attack. With both of them repeating this, it felt as if he was fighting one person with twice the speed of a normal person. He was being driven to the other side of the bridge. Every moment and step backwards increases his disadvantage. He will have to take a risk.
Baldy took another swing at him. Instead of parrying and stepping backwards, he sidestepped and tripped baldy. Baldy literally rolled downwards to the other end of the bridge. As expected, the senior swordsman continued to follow up by swinging his sword with great gusto at him. He squatted down. The senior swordsman's sword hit the wooden handrail of the bridge with great force. The senior swordsman tried pulling it out but it was stuck. It was his chance.
"Raaaaaaaaaawr" He growled while springing up from his squat to headbutt the swordsman in the stomach. The swordsman had the wind knocked out of him and stumbled backwards, hitting his back against the handrail on the other side of the bridge. He followed up with a high kick to the swordsman head.
The senior swordsman fell over the handrail into the river, unconscious and definitely not waking up ever again, offered as fish food to the eco-system of the province of Banana hammock.
"Just you and me, baldy." The bald swordsman scrambled to his feet, wielded his sword and breathed deeply. Once again at the feet of the bridge but on the other side, the bald swordsman had no more allies.
He swallowed his saliva nervously. He had stood between the village and the swordsmen. Yet the village is now exposed to the swordsman. All baldy had to do was turn around and run towards the village to grab a hostage. It could end up being his beautiful daughter. He gritted his teeth and prepared to run after the swordsman if necessary.
The bald swordsman sensed his uneasiness, took 2 quick steps forward and knocked his sword out of his hands with a strong swing. His sword spun in the air and landed into the river. He was defenseless. The swordsman grinned smugly, no words required to convey the pleasure of holding him at mercy. Was his 2nd death imminent?
Something whooshed through the air. The grin fell off the swordsman's face as he looked down in confusion at his chest. An arrow stuck out from his chest. The swordsman collapsed to his knees and fell forward on his face with a thud. A pool of blood oozed out from where he fell.
He glanced backwards at his saviour. A lone archer sat on horseback about 300 yards away. Behind the archer, the calvary had arrived, launching volleys of arrows to chase off the swordsmen fleeing on their horses, clutching onto the food they had stolen. The lone archer raised a bow in greeting and spun around riding off to join the other fellow archers on horseback. The sun shining on the archer's back had hidden the face of the archer but he had no doubt who the archer is. As the archer rode off, her long hair flowed in the air behind her. There was only 1 female archer in the whole army capable of such deadly precision at such a distance, nicknamed "The lioness".
He smiled in gratefulness and started walking back to the village, walking on baldy in amusement as a sorta victory parade. He will have to inform the cleanup team to dump baldy into the river before the corpse starts to rot and stink up the area around the bridge. He might have lost his 6 gold coins but he still has his precious life and family waiting for him at home. It was long overdue for him to let go of the past. He wonders how his wife will react to his now once again youthful look. Perhaps he could cast animate dead on her and revive her. What a wonderful day to be alive.
The End
