I wrote this a few months ago and i wanted to know what you guys and gals thought about it. there are no pictures but i might make some if you guys like it. I am not quite sure if this is the right place to post this so any admins out there feel free to relocate it to the appropriate place.
The blue and red banners waved in the distance, the sounds of horses neighing, and men shouting carried along to the men standing on the ramparts of the fortress. It was a dark day, there were grey clouds in the sky, a grim sign that the day would end in death and misery. The men on the ramparts stood in their armor, holding their weapons awaiting the Jabarians that would soon come pouring down the surrounding hills, thirsting for death and blood.
For the last few years the Jabarians that lived in the Vasska Mountains had been coming down and raiding the imperial outposts. So far eight had been taken and only one had warded off the attacks. The horde of invaders had moved westward, towards the capitol of Inar, the imperial land. The Jabarian army, it was more of a rabble of barbaric tribesmen, had made its way to the Ilyssian outpost where it was readying for its attack.
Two men walked along the parapets, one clad in dark armor wielding a large battle hammer, the other wore a brown cloak and walked slightly behind the other. “Are the men ready for the onslaught?” the man asked his attendant. “Yes sire, the men are ready to defend the empire.” “Good, order the archers to fire as soon as the Jabarians are within range, any word of reinforcements yet?” Sir Warrick was the current leader of this particular outpost he was appointed this position after the previous leader died on a patrol, “I’m afraid not sire, no messengers have arrived”. “The wind of fates has not blown in our favor today, Koran”, “ a sire, It appears not”.
As the two men walked along the walls, the Jabarians began to progress towards the castle slowly at first, but gaining speed as they went along. After a few seconds an arrow flew off the walls of the outpost and hit the ground a few paces in front of a Jabarian, the man looked up from the ground and uttered a roar that bellowed from inside of him, the sound was more animal than human. At that moment the horde of men began to shout and scream as they began to run towards the walls. Arrows shot towards the men, some hitting the ground but most felt the warm touch of blood. Jabarians were falling like leaves in autumn, some screaming as they clawed at arrows sticking out of their shoulders or legs, others fell silent, never to utter another sound. As soon as the ropes and ladders breached the ramparts men were swarming over the defenses. The fighting had begun!
Sir Warrick grimaced as his war hammer made contact with a Jabarians face. His attendant, Koran was wielding a small sword that he carried with him. He looked towards the smaller of the two gates, just in time to see the guards pour a cauldron full of boiling oil onto the faces of three barbaric warriors who were climbing a siege ladder. His men seemed to be winning; maybe the winds have changed he thought to himself. He swung his hammer at a Jabarian, missing by inches; he swung again, this time hitting the man square in the chest, sending him spinning into the courtyard below. He kicked a man in the side, and followed through with a swing from his war hammer. The knight took a glance around and noticed that the Jabarians were in fact, winning the fight. He turned around to find his attendant dead, his limp body hanging awkwardly over the side of the ramparts. He swung a sideways feint at the man standing over his attendant, the man went for it. As the Jabarian tried to block the oncoming weapon, Warrick slipped the hammer down and took out the man's legs; he then finished him off with a crunching blow to the side of his head. He bellowed in rage as he turned back, just in time to see a flash of light as a streak of fire shot at a nearby soldier sending him flying back, smashing into the gate house. “They have a wizard!” Warrick shouted as he saw heads turn, Where the Megablocks did they get a wizard, he thought to himself, wizards are among the most skilled warriors, most have spent many years studying the arcane arts. Warrick looked back at the wizard, he… no wait it was a she, a female wizard. In the empire it was law that only males could go and study in the arcane guild, all females who showed even the slightest magical power were shunned and were left to develop their powers on their own, most hardly learnt the basics of any of the four main lore’s. The laws must be different in the Jabarian lands he thought.
He turned back to the fighting; he dodged a blow from a sword as a jabarian climbed onto the wall. He swung back with his hammer and hit the man's legs, sending the barbaric mercenary to his death, twenty feet below. He looked over the wall, there were still many men climbing up the ladders. Warrick drew out his small dagger, and plunged it into the chest of a wounded Jabarian, the man coughed up blood all over Warrick’s arm. He turned, stood. There were two warriors facing him, both ready for a kill. One of the two advanced, he clumsily lunged at Warrick, most of the Jabarians were seasoned warriors, who had seen many battles; Warrick was more than that, he had trained at the imperial school of martial combat, and had graduated second in his class. Warrick easily deflected the blow with his hammer and threw his dagger into the man's face.
The second of the men took on a face of horror as he watched his accomplice fall into the embracing arms of death. He stepped forward, brandishing a double headed battle axe. He reared up ready to swing. He swung down, with full force. Warrick held his adamantine war hammer up in the path of the axe, when the two weapons made contact the sound rang out like a church bell. Warrick withdrew his hammer in time to swing at the man's arm. This man was more skilled than his felled accomplice, he blocked Warrick’s swing. The man dropped his axe and pulled a small sword from its scabbard. He swung the axe with deadly efficiency. The sword flew through the air like a bird, the sword making contact with Warrick’s breastplate. The man stumbled with the force of his own blow; Warrick took the opportunity to strike, landing a blow on the man's chest. Warrick heard bones crack as the man looked down with a look of horror as blood wetted seeped through his chain mail shirt. He looked up before he fell backwards landing on the wall. Warrick turned around, ready to take another life, just in time to receive a hammer blow to the face. He slipped into darkness.
He woke up with the taste of blood in his mouth, he spat; flecks of blood mixed with saliva flew out of his mouth. He tried to stand but his legs were too weak, he slowly began to untie his armor and take of his helmet. When he was done he looked around, he heard a few groans, but mostly it was silent, the scene before him was one of death, and gore. He noticed that the bodies that once belonged to imperial soldiers far outnumbered the dead Jabarians. He tilted his head back and tried to shout, but all that came out of his mouth was a moan, he then slipped back into the darkness.
Sir Warrick laid there for many hours. When he finally awoke it was dark. The few groans he had heard earlier had ceased, their owners would never again feel the warmth of day. He stood slowly, his joints cracking, and his head throbbing with pain. He looked around for his hammer, but could not find it. As he searched for a weapon he heard footsteps coming out of the castle, he hid in the stables, noting that one of the two horses were gone, he hoped that someone had gotten out to warn the other outposts. He watched as two men, one limping, the other holding an injured arm, walked out of the door. He instantly recognized them as imperial warriors. He stood and walked towards them “Good sirs, how is it that you survived the fight, yet many of your fellow soldiers perished?” as sir Warrick said this the two men looked up in fear, afraid that some Jabarians had stayed behind to plunder. “I am not sure sire, I remember being stabbed in the arm and then I must have succumbed to the darkness, because I just remember waking up and hearing Rowan groaning on the stairs, wounded in his leg.” “I see, we must get out of here, gather what things you can and load them onto the cart, then we will travel, we must gather what men we can, and attack the Jabarian army before they can destroy any more villages or outposts. See if there are any more injured soldiers, if not then we will leave immediately.” “yes sire, but I’m afraid that Rowan is too wounded to help” Sir Warrick looked at Rowan, yes I see, well load him onto the cart, what did you say your name was?” The man with the arm injury looked up as he helped Rowan onto the cart, “my name is Manning”. “Ok, now go and gather some supplies”. Warrick looked around the courtyard hoping to find a weapon, or even better his hammer, he found a sword and began to walk back to the cart when he saw his hammer, sitting sideways next to a dead Jabarian he picked it up and placed in on the cart. Warrick looked at all of the dead bodies; he began to gather them up, not the Jabarian corpses, just the imperial ones. There is no reason not to give these men a decent funeral.
Manning began to look through the castle rooms, he found a few discarded weapons, some scattered treasure here or there, but most of the food and valuables had been plundered by the Jabarians. He decided to look in the treasury; although it would mostly have been plundered there might be a few bits and pieces left. He climbed up the ladder and as he expected most of the crates and chests had been upturned and emptied, as far as he could see there were no coins of gold on the floor. He climbed back down and was walking past a window when he heard a group of men talking in Jabarian. He ran down the stairs and yelled at Warrick that there were still some Jabarians in the outpost. Warrick grabbed his hammer and hid behind the cart awaiting the men walking into the courtyard. The men walked in, and looked around, puzzled by the newly packed cart.
One of them walked over to the cart and examined the packs. He said something to his buddies and they both walked over to him. This was when Warrick jumped out and smashed his hammer into the side of one of the men’s face. “Get back” He exclaimed. The two men who were not lying on the ground crying in pain drew their weapons, one wielded a long sword, and the other a mace and a dagger. They both circled around Warrick. The one wielding the long sword brought it up to strike; Warrick took the opportunity and swung his hammed at the man, barely missing his chest. The second Jabarian stabbed at Warrick with his dagger, and then followed through with a swing of his mace. Warrick barely dodged the dagger and felt the impact of the mace glancing off of his helmet; his head throbbed from the wound he received earlier. He momentarily blacked out, he started to fall backwards dropping his hammer. The first Jabarian picked up the long sword, intending to swing it down of Warricks chest. Warrick winced as the man started to swing, but as the swing never came he looked up. The man was standing there looking at his chest, or rather looking at the blade that was sticking out of it. The man fell forward, behind him was Manning holding a small sword in his hand. The second man swung his mace at Manning expecting to catch him off guard, but Manning was too quick for him, the man lost his balance with his long swing and fell forward, just in time to receive Manning’s sword in his chest. The man fell to the ground moaning in pain, never to get up again.
“Sire, I believe it is time we left this place.” “I agree, but first help me pile up the last of the imperial corpses”, “yes sire”. They piled up the dead bodies and poured what was left of the castles supply of oil. They then light the funeral pyre on fire sending the souls of the deceased on to live for eternity in the golden fields.
The three men slowly walked away from the castle, pondering the task that lay before them. “We must find their camp and kill the wizard they have brought with them. A single wizard could mean the defeat of many other outposts, which we cannot let happen.” “Yes sire” manning said as he looked off into the distance, the day was breaking and the smell of smoke filled the air. Warrick turned back once more to look at the once mighty castle. The gate was broken, the men were dead, and he had a mighty task in front of him. The three men walked towards the horizon, and never once did they ever look back again.