Untitled Short Story

[Val]

(( This is just something I've been working on for a few months now, I stopped working on it at the beginning of October due to my hectic schedule, I just recently took a second look at it in hopes to continuing the story, as there really is much more to tell. I'm going to post it in smaller sections, instead of one massive post, to make it easier for you guys to read a bit at a time. ))


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The following tale is not the subject, nor is it meant to embolden the reader. It is the sad genesis to the life of a tragic man, and the great things he would come to do.

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Jain Maralee was always content with herself, a happy young girl who made friends easily, and unfortunately had to lose them just as easily. The problem was that her father was a rich merchant that traveled up and down the coast, which often times meant that she had to not get too attached to anyone near her. But that wasn't the case in Reigbottom's Glade.

Her family had stayed there for only a few months and she befriended a young girl by the name of Ann Marie Jacobs, they were roughly the same age, Ann Marie and Jain were as different as black and white in the beginning. She spent most of her days in the glade, the same from which the town was named, to the south. It was strange their meeting, at first the introvert took to herself as she did to many others, but, in the long run they became close friends. They became inseparable, one was not seen without the other. Jain spent six years in the village of Reigbottom Glade before her father's ever changing business took him north, to the northern fringe fishing village of Stillwaters. This was the catalyst for the tragic things to come.

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Heatfall, 12th, 1023rd year of the Empire's Reign.

Jain stood outside her two story home, the blond hair that was lying over her face was matted with dried tears. She stared with a saddened gaze through deep green eyes at the stones beneath her feet. She was used to moving of course, but she had a genuine regret for leaving her only best friend, Ann Marie. In six years she had formed a friendship so profound that it had hurt more to think about leaving than she would have imagined, but now that she was actually leaving she almost wished she had never came. But she would never truly feel that. She began to stare down at the large stones that she and Ann Marie had so often been found talking about silly childish things, things they had both grown out of in their six years of friendship. She was 16 now, she was an adult, she had more important things to worry about than the boys in the neighborhood who spent their afternoons doing their best to hide their stares. She smiled to herself, then regained her somber composure as her father came out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"It's time to get in the carriage, Jain, we're ready to leave."

She turned and stared at her father, his eyes were a quiet shade of green, just like her own. She could see in his eyes the regret he had in doing this to her. For a while she had hated him for always moving, but soon that anger passed and she realized that he was doing what was best for the family.

"I was hoping to see Ann one last time before I left. I thought she would be here."

He frowned once more, the guilt still becoming ever more apparent.

"I'm sorry, we can't wait any longer sweetheart."

Just as the words came off his tongue, the front of the gate was thrown forward, the dark trussed form of Ann Marie came flying through the gates, she collided with Jain in a measuring embrace.

"You can't go!" She cried. "I don't have anyone else!"

Ann Marie buried her sobbing face in her friend's hair. Jain couldn't let Ann Marie suffer, she couldn't, she had to be strong for her.

"I know Ann, but I'll visit, my father will come through all the time, won't you?"

Her father simply nodded and smiled a bit. Ann Marie seemed to be calmed a bit by the notion of her visiting, she pulled her face back from Jain's shoulder and sniffled a bit.

"But, Jain, I'll be so lonely when you're not here."

Jain smiled deeply.

"Me too, Ann." her stalwart smile suddenly crumbled into tears.

The two girls held onto each other for a few short moments and sobbed, these were times that Jain nor Ann would ever forget.

Everything was very gray for Ann when Jain climbed into the Carriage with her mother, her Father sat on the front, grabbing hold of the reins. He turned back once more to Ann and offered a weak smile and a wave goodbye.

They left Ann Marie, standing in the street, holding her hands against her chest, trying to beat down the melancholy that was setting in. All the thoughts that would pass through her head were that she wouldn't see her ever again, she just knew it.

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Redbranch, 23rd, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

"Get up Thomas! Get your spear up! How are you supposed to defend yourself when it's dipping so low?!"

Thomas' sparring partner lunged forward with an overhead chop with his wooden sword. Thomas spun back, his guard was down, he felt the sting as the blade grazed past initial target and struck his right biceps. He brought the spear back and thrust it down between his partner's feet and tripped him up. He brought the spear back up and put it hard against his prone opponent's back.

"Good work Thomas, you're defense is weak, but your counter attack was satisfactory."

The Militia Drill Sergeant turned to Bernard, as he was regaining his footing.

"You move like a pregnant cow Bernard, you projected that attack so blatantly that Ol' Murphy could have dodged it."

Bernard cocked his head sideways, Thomas knew what was about to happened. He and Bernard grew up together, and as long as he knew him, Bernard had never garnered one ounce of common sense in his head.

"Ol' Murphy is blind, Sarge. That doesn't make much sense."

The Drill Sergeant shook his head, everyone around him started to laugh. Bernard, like so many times before, blushed a violent shade of red.

"You may not be the brightest Bernard, but god willing you might come in useful soaking up a spear if those damn Northmen raid."

Bernard shot his glance down, Thomas could feel the embarrassment radiating off of his friend. One of the other militia men in the crowd spoke up. "Look out Bernard, here comes Ol' Murphy!" The crowd roared with laughter, until the Drill Sergeant spoke up with a mirth shattering bellow.

"Shut it!"

The crowd stifled it's laugh.

"You all fight like newborns, don't you dare point fingers at Bernard here. The way you all fight, none of you could do much better. Gods forbid that we be called to help one of the other towns in the sorry state we're in now. We're here to protect our kinsmen. Some of you had better be putting more effort in on this training field, or each and every one of us will fall to Northern Blades. Now, training is over for now, get back here in four hours. Dismissed!"

The group of trainees, still reeling from the harsh and depressingly realistic words of their Drill Sergeant, all turned to leave, some still snickering at Bernard's less that intelligent comment. Thomas clasped Bernard on the shoulder.

"It'll be ok Bernard, he's just hard on us to make sure we don't screw up when it really counts."

Bernard managed a half hearted smile. He undoubtedly still felt stupid for opening his mouth, Thomas thought.

"C'mon, I'll buy you a pint over at the Brown House."

"Sounds good." Bernard sullenly replied.

They turned and started to walk out of the training fields. There was the smell of roasting bread blowing off the village ahead, Thomas took a deep refreshing breath, he hadn't ate anything since this morning. He nearly started to daze off when he saw Ann Marie, standing at the far gate, waiting for him. Even from the distance he could tell the full smile that she had on her face. As he and Bernard approached, she encased him in a loving embrace. She reached up and kissed his grizzled face.

"You need to shave." she smirked.

Thomas rubbed his chin, he had a terrible 5'o clock shadow. He grinned a bit.

"What's got you so cheery?" he asked.

She beamed up at him once more, her bright blue eyes shining.

"I just got a letter from Jain!" she laughed.

Thomas returned the smile. He pulled her a bit closer to him.

"So, I take it, we'll be having a house guest?"

Ann Marie was generally not a giddy woman, she was calm and a very mature woman by many respects, but whenever Jain came around she became 16 all over again.

"I hope so!"

She finally looked past Thomas and smiled at Bernard, who had been sheepishly pacing back and forth behind Thomas.

"Go on Bernard, I'll catch up with you in a few." Thomas said.

Bernard hesitated, then started to pace forward. Thomas knew that the moment was too perfect, he had to say it.

"Unless, you're afraid of Ol' Murphy beating you down before you get inside?"

Bernard shot a faux glare at Thomas.

"I just want my free drink."

Thomas laughed and waved at his friend. He then focused on the confused look on Ann Marie's face.

"Mr. Murphy is blind, why would he attack Bernard?"

Thomas laughed, he loved his wife, but gods willing she could hardly catch a joke without the help of a net. Thomas smirked to himself and continued the conversation.

"So, will she be bringing anyone special this time?"

Ann burst into another fit of laughter.

"I doubt it Thomas, you know Jain, she's never been anything but a terrible flirt."

Thomas chuckled as he nodded, then thought of how head over heels Bernard fell for Jain the last time she visited a year ago. Once more, he smiled to himself.

"All right Ann, let's go get something to eat before I have to head back for more training."

She smiled as she then stepped away from him. She began to shake her head.

"No, I'm going to go compose a letter and get it mailed out as soon as I can, to let her know that we're eagerly waiting on her return."

She kissed him one last time and then scurried off down the road.

[Val]

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Redbranch, 29th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

Jain smiled widely after reading over Ann's letter. She gathered the letter up and placed it back in the bundle. She stood and took a deep breath and smelled the water course off of the Loch. It was summertime in the Northlands, the cold air had reduced itself to a chill, opposed to the furious snowstorms that swept out of the steppes most of the year, this was wonderful. She had lived in Stillwater for five years now, and days like this were becoming fewer and fewer. She would have in other circumstance had left for the south long ago but her father's failing health kept her otherwise wild spirit in check. She walked from the small wooden dock into the house, her mother had died from the same illness that plagues her father, it had truly been a hard time on them both. She hadn't grieved that much in all her life, and despite her pleasant demeanor, the fact that her father would soon be joining her mother in death presented itself in the quiet moments before she slept nightly. She stepped onto the foray and heard a sullen wheeze echo from the den. She walked in to find her father filling out old ledgers with a worn eagle feathered quill that he had brought back from the imperial city on one of his many business trips to the south.

"Are you ok, Dad?"

The 45 year old man would have looked much younger, but due to the havoc that the rasp plague was causing on his body, he looked more akin to a 90 year old. His weary green eyes flashed when he saw the beauty that was his daughter.

"I'm fine, Jain"

She smiled.

"I'd feel much better though, if my daughter would hurry up and find a handsome young gentleman to take care of her."

She walked over and hugged her weary father, she had long ago been given the vaccination for the rasp plague. The Rasp plague had first been spotted around the 1024th year of the Empire's Reign. In a matter of a simple twelve months, the plague had managed to cripple the entire population of the Southern Gladius Empire. For two years the Rasp rampaged all over the imperial lowlands, causing a violent and sudden death, starting with your voice to cut out and be replaced with a terrible rasping, choking sound, followed by severe blood loss, finally, after weeks of torture, you would die suddenly. The horrible plague's rapid effects caused the death toll to skyrocket in sudden brutal bursts. Soon, a young brilliant doctor by the name of Vincent Marko, of the Imperial Capitol, Afirasm was thought to have discovered the cure to the plague, a vaccination was quickly formulated but in the long run, it proved to be faulty. During the first breaking, where the plague was thought all but vanished, they reopened the ports, Jain's mother and father were one of the first merchant vessels to reach port. At that time, the vaccination was faulty and the first 12 ships to make port contracted the virus, causing the widespread disaster and the return of the damning illness. Doctor Vincent Marko was called a liar and after a series of terrible assaults, he came up missing and was presumed dead. Jain's mother died at Afirasm weeks before a new vaccination was found. For those who had been afflicted for a longer period of time, the vaccination only proved to slow the terrible effects of the plague. Jain herself had been Vaccinated with the cure from her father's very own ship.

Even though their time together was lengthened considerably, it still was tough to see her father in such a mess.

She placed her hand on her father's and she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Are you sure that you won't mind me leaving for a month or so, if you don't want me to go, please, let me know."

Her father smiled and chuckled a bit.

"No, I don't want you to stay here and miss out on seeing Ann Marie just because of this dying old man."

He started hacking loudly, a rasping sound echoing in the coughs. He grabbed a handkerchief and placed it over his mouth. After regaining composure, he continued.

"No, I'll be fine here with Martin watching out for me. But I'm sure he'll miss you."

She smiled girlishly to herself. Martin had been courting her for years now, one day she would let him in.

A knocking at the door sent her out of her reverie.

"I wonder who that is."

She walked into the front of the house, the large oak door had but one window at the top, above her head. She opened the door slightly, the shaggy brown hair and boyish smile of Martin was there to greet her.

"Hello Jain."

She smiled to herself, and placed a false grimace on her face.

"Oh, grand, it's you."

"You'd talk to an old friend like that?" Martin asked.

Jain's face curled into a grimace.

"... friend?"

Martin cocked his head to the side.

"Oh, we're not friends now?"

Jain threw the door open with a smile.

"Come on in, Dad and I were just talking about you."

Martin stepped in, and as he did, she let her hand trace casually across his stomach. She felt him shudder at the touch. She smiled at him as he passed.

She had met Martin on the docks several years back, before her mother had passed, he was at the time a dockworker, before becoming her father's apprentice. She truly did care for him, but she would never let him be sure, and she was positive that he was liquid in her palm. She would rather have it that way. Maybe, after she returned from Reigbottom Glade and seeing Ann, she would finally break down and let Martin in, maybe.

She followed Martin into the Den, her father was standing to greet Martin.

"No, stay seated Alfred." Martin said.

Alfred stood anyway.

"If it's all the same, I'm not dead yet Martin."

Alfred smiled a genuine smile.

"And thank the gods you aren't." Martin responded, as Alfred grasped his hand.

"I mean, you've still got a lot to teach me about mercantile, you can't die yet." Martin continued.

Alfred smirked and moved to sit down once more, easing himself cautiously into his lush wooden chair. He cocked his head a bit to the side, hiding his face.

"I also need to see my daughter get settled down one day." Alfred added.

He turned then he winked to Martin then sent a glance over at Jain. Martin shifted his weight to his right leg and pivoted a bit so that he could see Jain as she stood in the corner, pretending that she wasn't paying attention.

"I could only be so lucky as to get a lady like your daughter, Al"

Jain smiled and turned to walk into the kitchen, satisfied that Martin was focused completely on her.


Later in the evening, after she helped put her father to bed, she was showing Martin out. They met in the den, Martin had been tiding up the book keeping mess that he and Alfred had created during the afternoon. Jain moved inside to offer some help.

"I'm sorry, Dad would have been here to help, but, you know how tired he gets." Jain added, as she shelved three worn leather bound books.

Martin placed some papers in an old file and rolled them up.

"No, it's fine, I understand, you know it's never been a chore for me." he responded. He turned after he finished rolling the papers up, Jain was brushing some dust off her blouse.

"Besides," Martin added. "It gives me more time to spend with you."

Silence fell across the room, a coy smile spread across Jain's lips. Martin returned the smile. He pushed the chair closer to the desk as he stepped forward. She looked up into his brown eyes.

"Looks like we're all alone." she said.

Martin smiled.

"Good time for you to leave, I've got a big day in the morning."

She winked and started for the door, Martin sighed and shook his head, he grabbed his jacket as he moved out of the den.

As they drew closer to the door, Martin spoke up.

"I heard you were leaving in a month or so."

Jain saw the concern on his face, he tried to hide it while he put his heavy wool coat on.

"Yes, I am going to Reigbottom's Glade to see Ann Marie.

Martin smiled.

"Who will be taking care of Al."

Jain smiled.

"You."

Martin laughed.

"Oh, you just went ahead and made plans for me to do this, what if I had plans?"

She put her hands on her hips.

"Then, you'd cancel them, of course."

Martin frowned.

"You know, I'll do it, for a price though."

Jain's eyebrow arched in confusion.

"What's that, doesn't my father pay you enough?"

"No, no, I'm not looking for coin."

Jain smirked.

"Then what?"

"A kiss, I'll do it for a kiss."

She smiled and stepped outside. Martin stepped a bit closer, she put her face close to his. She could feel her own heart fluttering beside his. Their chests pressed together, Martin leaned in, his eyes closed. She moved her head sideways and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then, pushing him backwards, she moved inside behind he door.

"I'll be leaving two weeks from now, be here around noon, you can stay here if you'd like, but stay out of my things. Good Night Martin!"

She closed the door hard, she heard him sigh and put his head on the door. Yes, when she gets back, she would let him in.


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Redbranch, 23rd, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign


The light cast a glow off of is sweat ridden flesh.

"Who else dares challenge the right of my kingship?!"

The one-eyed giant of a man stood with the bloody ragdoll of a dead assassin hanging limply in his grasp, still squeezing the man's throat. His massive hand dwarfed the otherwise large man's neck. He tossed the body to the floor, the wolves that accompanied the king wherever he went tore into the dead man's flesh. The room was silent and not a soul wold dare make a move, except for one man. He moved forward from the others, bearing a sharpened sword, the burning torches glittered against the steel, he sealed his fate when he spoke two words.

"I do."

The War King of the Sothgardte, Malahek, stared him down, sizing him up. The challenger was a large man, clearly grizzled from the hardship of battle, his name was Brehek, and he was the chieftain of the tribe Tuhak, the boar. The Tuhak, they were the sole holdouts of his vast army, they were the last key to unlocking the flood gates holding back the torrent of blood that would be his war. All he needed were all 12 tribes and the druid council would allow him his war. This peon, the weakling leader of an even weaker tribe of old men who fancy themselves thinkers and poets. He hated this coward, why did not he share the same bloodlust as the others? Why could he not see the weak blooded outsiders as they were, a plague, a leech, they took their lands from them in the past, and they demanded them back. He was War King, and he would carve a path to honor in the gore and viscera of fallen enemies. The North would be Sothgardte Lands.

Brehek stood out in the hall, he raised his arm and tossed the sword at the War King's feet. The War King looked at the meager blade and kicked it to the side. Turning his gaze back to Brehek, he found that Brehek had procured another sword from somewhere else. The War King snorted and roared a challenge.

"I need no steel to kill one man! My scars dictate my worth!"

Brehek shrugged and charged forward, Malahek charged forward to meet him. He saw the overhead swing a split second before it came down, he grabbed the opposing chieftain's sword bearing hand, and followed it up by grasping the man by the top of the neck, lifting him by his skull alone. Brehek spit and struggled in fear, pounding desperately at the War King's long massive arms. The 7'3 War King easy lifted the 6'4 warrior. He ripped the sword from the man's struggling hand. His eyes widened as he saw his own death in that jet black hole where the War King's left eye once was. Malahek shoved the sword into Brehek's stomach, cleanly and thoroughly to the hilt. He began twisting the blade as the proud warrior swooned as he experienced the most painful wound in his long, difficult life. Suddenly the War King pulled the blade down, turning what was a simple impaling into a gutting. The gore from the wound spilled out onto the dirty floors beneath him. He ripped the blade out and heaved it into the floor. He then reached into Brehek's mouth and tore out his tongue. He then threw the quickly dying body of Brehek to his wolves once more.

He took his place on his giant oaken throne. The wolves to his left still feasted on the organs of the dead men. Slaves came and began to clean the entrails of Brehek. A slave girl, a lower caste weak blooded whore, approached his feet with wet cloth. She meant to clean him. How dare she try to remove the blood of his enemies. As she reached up he grabbed her throat and began to squeeze, just as he felt her pathetic bone start to snap, he let go.

"YOU WERE NOT COMMANDED!"

He struck the poor woman across the jaw, sending her sprawling out on the floor, nearly dead with the single blow.

The crowd, clearly uncomfortable with all the gore, did nothing to show any objection, most just turned their backs and continued to mumble about themselves, trying to put the image of their violent king out of their minds.

War King Malahek did no eating this evening. He sat with his remaining eye closed, seeing the fury of his wrath wash over the highlands through darkness of his eyeless socket. He would have what was his, he would have his power.

[Val]

Leafal, 3rd, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

Ann Marie laid her head on Thomas' chest, for a year now they had been trying to conceive a child together, the local midwives always said that it would just take time. After the loss of her first child at the age of 20, she had fell into a horrible depression, and she felt like she had failed so intimately as a mother. She was afraid at first, but she had finally gotten past all the worry and the tension and the anxiety and she and Thomas had decided to try for another child. Her mother had major difficulty having her, she often asked her mother what she did during the harsh pregnancy, and her mother always responded with the same answer.

"I always knew that I would have one of those most beautiful little girls in the whole world."

Not exactly the wisdom she was looking for, but it was a kind phrase indeed. Ann Marie's mother had definitely come upon a hard time during Ann Marie's first months of life, she had initially been thought a stillborn. But after her mother held her and weeped for hours over her body, somehow, Ann Marie's body had kicked back on, and she was alive again. The Priests said that it was the will of The Holy Archdiocese. No one could really explain it a whole lot, other than it was nothing short of miraculous. After such a traumatizing birth, Ann Marie was kept sheltered for most of her childhood, at first at her mother's will, but eventually she became so socially inept that she would just as soon run from anyone who approached her. That was, of course until she met Jain and was broken free of her shell. Her mother initially was apprehensive at the thought of her shy, bookworm daughter starting to bloom and blossom as a child, but Jain had such a good effect on her, she couldn't help but love Jain as a daughter as well.

Thomas began to shift as he slept, finally letting out a soft cough, then he began to grip Ann tighter.

Her mother went through fits when Ann and Thomas first started dating. Thomas was her first, last and only love. She had first met Thomas the first summer after Jain had left with her family, Thomas was the son of a local grocer and had lived in Reigbottom's Glade his whole life, Jain had never been formally introduced, but she was familiar with him as one of the three boys who used to gawk at her and Jain as they made their rounds about the village. It was completely by strange chance that Thomas had stumbled upon her, crying in the glade. She initially tried to leave quickly, but concern finally got the better of Thomas, and the simple phrase. "Are you ok?" was all there was needed, and the she was in love from that moment on. Thomas was her friend while Jain was away, he was the one who was there to comfort her when she was sad. He was her first kiss, and he was her first boyfriend. They had gotten married when she turned 19, he was 22 at the time. He was the love of her life and her best friend, besides Jain of course.

She kissed Thomas' bare chest and curled in beside him a bit closer. She felt his breath beating down on the back of her head. Jain would be here, and if she could convince her to stay, she knew this would be perfect. She had her husband, her home, her best friend and her baby. Life was turning out just fine for Ann Marie Cole, she thought as she finally felt herself begin to drift off to sleep.

Just fine indeed.


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Leafal, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

The next morning Thomas was up with the dawn, he had to be to the grocery as soon as possible to open it up, most of the older folks of the community get up with the dawn as well, and if Thomas failed once to have that store open the same time his father did, every morning for the past three decades, then there would be hell to pay, for sure.

Ann Marie was lying off to the side, she was sleeping contently. He didn't bother wake her, she had a big day ahead of her, Jain would be leaving Stillwater this morning, meaning that Ann Marie had to completely clean the entire house. Thomas wasn't a messy man, and Ann Marie surely wasn't either. But whenever Ann Marie had intense cleaning to do, it seemed like she kicked up more dust and dirt just moving around so fast than she would otherwise.

She was beautiful, he thought.

The past year or so had been tough on her, with the miscarriage and other complications, initially she was so distraught that he genuinely feared for her mental stability. Despite how happy he would be with a child, he was worried that another miscarriage would leave her broken, or worse.

He shook away the thought and pulled on his breeches. He finished his morning quietly and stepped out the door, the Grocery was just down the road from where he lived. His father had built the building with his own two hands and he took great pride in his father's craftsmanship. Reigbottom's Glade had more than it's fair share of extremely talented and experienced carpenters, but none of them could recreate the love that his father had poured into that wood. He was proud to carry on that legacy. Like most of the people that lived in the Highlands, under the shadow of the Sothgardte Steppes, his father had been killed by Sothgardte raiders. Thomas mourned, but he was not crushed. Soon after his father's death, an agreement was made between Reigbottom's Glade, Stillwater and Red Bridge, that they would raise a unified militia, that would mobilize to help defend one if it were to become under attack by an unusually large raiding force of Sothgardte barbarians. It wasn't something that wasn't often found anymore, but the threat was always there.

Those three towns shared some very bloody history, they all surrounded a large highland lake called Loch Duald, it was once a holy place for the Northern Barbarians known only as the Sothgardte. The Sothgardte and the Imperial peoples had never had a very pleasant past. When the first pioneers from the Southern Gladius Empire had moved north, they were met by the harsh Northmen of the Sothgardte. A vicious and terrible acts of rampage and murder ensued when the pioneers had first set to create their first settlement, the name of which had been lost to the times, a place now currently called Frostwatch Rock. When the Gladius Emperor Caius the Third saw the genocide north of the Bhanal River, he decided that vengeance was in his hands. At first, he sent three legions north, past the Bhanal River to push the Northmen back, but the combined force and the terrible rage of the barbarian hordes crushed and thoroughly decimated all three legions with just a two week campaign. It was from this war that he went down in the histories as the "Hero of the Empire" by the Imperial peoples, or to the Northman "The Bloody Deceiver" or the "Weak Blooded Snake". To this day, as far as they know, the Sothgardte have not recovered from the series of quick and vicious assassinations. Spies had somehow managed to spot and target Thirteen Sothgardte generals, all of which were slain in their beds. That was nearly two centuries ago, and to this day, the Sothgardte have not been able to rally under one banner. But rest assured, everyone who lived north of the Bhanal River kept an uneasy eye on the dark forests and the steep mountains to the north.

Thomas made his way to the grocery, he could already see the form of someone mulling around the front door to the store, he couldn't make out who it was through the early morning haze, but he figured that it was Ol' Murphy, still drunk of his keister from the night before. As he approached, he noticed the apparent lack of a drunken swagger, that was so often attributed to Ol' Murphy. He drew closer and recognized the worn face of Master Militia Drill Sergeant, Augustus Mills.

"How are you this morning, Sarge?" Thomas asked, as he drew closer.

"I'm fine Thomas, I would have wanted to come by and tell you how fine of a job you did yesterday in Combat Training. But, that's not why I'm here." Sgt. Mills replied.

Thomas pulled the keyring from out of his pocket and began fumbling with the keys.

"So, you came to do some early morning shopping I take it?" Thomas mused.

Sgt. Mills shifted uncomfortably, something Thomas noted that he did not often do.

"No, that's not it either."

Thomas finally managed to unlock the door, and he pushed it open. There was a chill breeze coming from inside, he must have left a window open during the evening.

"What is it then, Sarge?"

Thomas motioned Sgt. Mills to follow him inside while he searched for the source of the cold air.

"There have been a series of reports from the Imperial Scouts moving through the Velgarde forests, apparently, they saw Sothgardte Warriors constructing a temporary Fort.

Thomas stopped moving when the weight of Sgt. Mills words hit him. All at once he was back all those years ago, watching those dour faced giants drive a spear into his father's fleeing back. Thomas had been watching from the family house, he was told to protect his baby sister while his father looked for his older brother. His father's death still rung out in nightmares on some nights. The thought of the Sothgardte roaming the forest edges was a terrifying aspect indeed and did more than enough to conjure up those painful and terrifying memories.

"What does that mean?" Thomas asked, he had suddenly turned a light shade of pale.

"It could mean nothing, but, the Emperor has already sent out an entire legion to the area, they should be arriving within the next month by ship."

Thomas was visibly relaxed by the mention of the Imperial Legions. Sgt. Mills did not seem as calmed.

"That means, that if the Sothgardte are mobilizing, if they are united once again, the defense of the Lake towns falls to us and the other militias. The order has already been given, all roads are closed until we have a definite answer to what they are doing up there. I have scouts out trying to see if this is just us overreacting, they should be back any time in the next few days"

Thomas' face was downcast, he was fiddling around mindlessly with his keys as the reality of what could happen set in.

"Anyway, Thomas, you're a natural leader. I wanted you to know first hand, that we could be called to action any minute. So, if you can, be ready to ride at the drop of a hat." Mills' voice was resolute, there was obvious sympathy for what he was saying, but he could show none.

He quietly left Thomas there, the whistling of the wind blowing through the open window was the only sound other than the rattling of keys in Thomas' now shuddering hands.

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Leafal, 30th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign


"You have no power over me old men, you hear me?" Malahek cried.

The druid's had all met together in the War King's staging fortress, it was where all the madness would begin. This was their last desperate plea.

"Malahek, you are correct, you have the power to lead our people to war." Kalstadt, the eldest Druid and the High Shaman of the Sothgardte spoke.

Malahek snorted and turned his head away.

"If you know that already Kalstadt, why did you drag you and your band of cowardly soothsayers out of your temples to come tell me the obvious?"

He was right, Kalstadt thought, the druid council had indeed made a great long journey to the Velgarde forest borderlands and it will most possibly all will be for nothing. But they sought to protect their people, and to do that, they must protect their king. Kalstadt himself had severe doubts that they would make any sort of difference beyond all the trials they had put before Malahek already.

Malahek, a man who would be king, a man who would lead their people to ruin.

A powerfully violent, primal and raging man. By tradition, only the strongest chieftain could be king, and he epitomized carnal and brutal strength. The only thing they could do now is watch as the strongest of their people charge blindly into certain doom. He had passed the trials that the druid council had placed before him, something that they had thought to be nearly impossible. He united all 12 Sothgardte Tribes. But this would all be for moot, as Kalstadt and the others had listened to the winds.

The spirits of the four corners had dictated that this would happen, they had listened and the spirits had spoke of Malahek. Now here they were, on the precipice of destruction, nearly all hope was lost and now Kalstadt would abandon the one thing cherished amongst the Sothgardte in hopes of saving them from extermination.

His pride.

"War King, I can only hope that you will soon see the folly of your action, that you are entering into a war where we cannot hope to face victory, the spirits have dictated this to us. Please, seek out peace, not war. It is only in peace that our people can thrive."

Kalstadt fell to one knee, something unheard of the High Shaman doing, even to the War King. His head was lowered to the earth beneath him. Malahek saw this and even he shifted uncomfortably in his throne. The confusion then all at once disappeared from his face and the familiar grimace was returned.

"You would have me stem this war?" Malahek's voice was that of a whisper, raising suddenly like the sound of sharpening daggers.

"You would have me abandon my cause? You would have me submit, like our forefathers?" his voice continued to rise in volume.

"You, High Shaman, and your cowardly bretheren fear this war on the whims of whispers on the wind. You may find it simple to abandon your pride, but not I." He launched himself from his throne, he pointed accusingly at Kalstadt and the others.

"You would have me deny my birthright, and my HONOR?!"

Just as it seemed as if he would reach out and strangle the noble druid he snorted and crumbled back down into his throne. He placed his head in his hand.

"For too long, our people have suffered under your rule, we have lost our strength. We will have what is ours, and faith shall be restored in the king, and not in prophets."

Malahek raised his head up from his hands and stared at Kalstadt. His ice blue eye boring a hole into Kalstadt with a gaze that would cause normal men to cower in fear.

"Leave here Druids, you're place is with the women and the weak willed. Go back to your temple and watch as your gods are proven false."

The room was cold, the braziers burned brightly but that did not stop the chill from tearing through the heart of all those who had saw what transpired. Their King had signed their live's away. Kalstadt stood, he felt a deep regret for what was about to happen to their people. He knew that Malahek's ambition would drive him south of the Bhanal, he knew that our people would be slaughtered. He and the others solemnly left Malahek's fortress, knowing full well that the next years would prove to be the hardest the beleagured Sothgardte people had faced thus far.

[Val]

Deadbranch, 3rd, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

4:21 am

Augustus Mills had seen war and hardship, he had seen battle and blood spilled on the frozen dirt beneath his feet. He had seen the Northmen in battle and he had seen their ferocity mirrored only by the terrible storms that pour off the mountains to their backs. But he had never hoped to see what he was seeing now. A lone scout had returned in the darkest hours of morning, he was only one of three brave men of Reigbottom's Glade that had been sent out nearly three weeks ago to investigate reports of Sothgardte mobilization on the borders of the Velgarde forests, due north of the port town of Stillwaters.

He was slumped over in his saddle with an axe sticking from his back. He had his eyes plucked out and his hands and legs were broken, he was more than murdered, he was rearranged. Sgt. Mills and a few other Guardsmen had pulled graveyard shift on town watch. Sgt. Mills had expected the return of the scouts with the sunrise in a matter of a few more hours.

As the horse drew closer, Sgt. Mills made motion for them to take the body from the horses saddle. As the body was being pulled down, a note had fallen out of his hand. It had evidently been held in place by a small wooden shiv jammed through the palm of his hand. Sgt. Mills, still reeling despite his experience in brutality, grabbed the yellow dried parchment that was stained with imperial blood.

"Gul moclh ma machra jul Sothenridge camech en Sothgardte garchen"

Sgt. Mills had spent years listening to the battle cries of the Sothgardte, but he still had a very small grasp on their language, there was one amongst them in Reigbottom's Glade who had spent time studying the Sothgardte language. He turned and barked an order.

"Someone find me Thomas Cole."

Bernard stepped forward and nodded. It must have been fate that Bernard had pulled third shift tonight, but Augustus Mills wouldn't give creed to hocus pocus. Sgt. Mills nodded in return and the lanky red haired Bernard ran down the lane and into the village limits.

-------------------

Deadbranch, 3rd, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

4:40 am

"This isn't a drill Thomas, we've got to move, now!" Bernard was shouting. Thomas stretched placidly out across his bed, Ann Marie had long ago rolled over.

"Bernard, it'll be fine, I'll be up soon." he laid his arms over Ann Marie and felt his head crash back into his pillow.

Bernard, in seeing Thomas' lethargy, stomped his feet and let out a sigh.

"Thomas, the scouts returned, they are bearing a message from the Sothgardte, you're the only one here who knows what to make out of their language."

Thomas raised his head a bit and then shook off the fatigue. He leaned down and kissed Ann Marie and quickly grabbed his slacks and his boots, he put them on in a hurry as Bernard left the room and made his way out to the front door. Thomas soon followed as he pulled on his heavy wool jacket. They made their way into the darkened night, Bernard had a lantern ready. Guided by the light of the brass lantern, both men sprinted out the north gates to where Sgt. Mills and the others had gathered. As they arrived to the north outpost, he could see one man leading a single horse into the stables, there were still two other missing horses. Thomas turned to Bernard.

"Where are the other two scouts?"

Bernard put his head down and continued walking.

"Bernard?" Thomas asked again, taking note of the evasive demeanor of Bernard's actions.

Sgt. Mills saw Bernard and Thomas arrive, he nodded to Bernard and the red haired klutz went inside the outpost without as much as a word, leaving Thomas still standing with a confused look. Sgt. Mills approached Thomas bearing a stained parchment. Thomas could make out a concerned look on his face.

"Private Cole, good, here, tell me what you can make of this."

Sgt. Mills handed Thomas the parcment, Thomas started to move his hand to take the note, but he froze when he saw the mangled body of Robert Carver lying on the ground. Sgt. Mills grabbed him and turned him back around, casting his gaze away from the grizzly image and once more tried to hand him the paper.

"Here, Thomas, read this." he said, this time, more comforting.

Thomas tried to look back and then regained his shaken composure, tossing out the image of Robert Carver and focusing on the task at hand. He took the paper and immediately began reciting what he had learned about the Sothgardte language in his head. After his father's death, he found it necessary to know everything about them. What he found were a number of scattered memoirs of the few scholars who had actually been able to infiltrate and escape Sothgardte lands as slaves. Slowly he began to decipher the strange gutteral language and markings of the Sothgardte, soon however a terrible sentence formed in his head and the words escaped Thomas' lips faster than he would liked to haved them to. Fear gripped his heart, mixed with a strange sense of excitement as he realized that his father's death would be avenged.

"On red dawn the highlands return to Sothgardte hands."

Sgt. Mills cast a glance down for a moment, losing himself introspectively, then looked back at Thomas.

"Are you sure that is what it says Thomas?"

Thomas sullenly nodded, despite his selfish excitment of being able to attain a sense of vengence for his father's untimely death, he wished that it didn't. Sgt. Mills, took a deep breath and turned back to the group.

"I need runners to Red Bridge, everyone else, rally your fellows and tell your family that you'll see them again in a week, we're going to help garrison Stillwaters"

Thomas stood at attention, as did all the others, they all knew that their training would be put to the test, some among them were confident in their skill, others, who took the job as an opportunity to just make some coin, felt the pressure weighing down heavily. Sgt. Mills' vision traced itself across the faces of all present and then with a sigh he continued.

"Report back to me in one hours time, dismissed."

--------------------

Deadbranch, 3rd, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

5:49 am

"Ann Marie... I'm sorry."

She was sobbing now, her face pressed into his chest. He felt the gravity of the situation reflected in her tears.

"You can't, I can't be alone again!"

Thomas kissed her gently on the forehead and held her closer, he could feel her heart pounding, she was just as terrified as he was. It pained him to know that he could do nothing to help the situation. He pulled Ann Marie up to him, he pushed the hair out of her face.

"I'm going to Stillwater, if there aren't brave men like me, what hope is there for Jain and her father?"

Ann Marie looked up at him, she saw the courage and the determination that she had fell in love with, shining in his eyes, but she also saw her own fears of losing him. Jain was in Stillwater, he had to go save Jain, he had to bring them back. She fell into his chest once more and rocked back and forth. Bernard once more appeared at the door, in the same manner he had earlier. He peered inside the candle lit room and spoke softly.

"We're running out of time, Thomas, we've got to go."

Thomas turned to Bernard and managed a weak smile and a nod.

"I'll be ready in a moment Bernard, I'll meet you outside."

Bernard closed the door behind him, Thomas heard him rush outside. He turned back to Ann Marie, who had changed her demeanor from complete hysteria and terror to a calm strength, something that he rarely saw in her. She laid her hand to rest on Thomas' and looked into his eyes with all the concern and composure she could muster.

"Go, but come back, please Thomas, please come back."

Thomas rubbed her head slowly, stroking her brown hair. He leaned in and they embraced in a deep, powerful kiss. He smiled at her and he stood and made for the door. They both were wondering if that kiss were to be their last moment together.

----------------------

Deadbranch, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

3:21 pm

Jain had been busying herself with whatever housework she could find, right now it seemed to be filing backlogged dossiers. Since the roads had been closed for god knows what,and the ports had been closed and emptied out over the past three weeks, it had effectively put a halt on her venture to Regbottom's Glade to see Ann Marie. The whole town had been abuzz with rumors of Sothgardte raiders and whatnot. All in all, the local militia had been tightlipped about the reasons for the closure. But they gave everyone assurance that it would not outlast the Empire's founding celebration in a few months. Suddenly she heard a pounding at the door, she put down the stack of dossiers and moved toward the north facing window, it was Martin, he was slamming his fists on the door in a hurry. She ran for the door and tore it open, Martin's hand was raised mid pound.

"Martin! What is it?" she asked.

"The other militias, they are here! From Red Bridge and Reigbottom's Glade."

Jain knew what that meant, that meant that the rumors may have just been proved true. Martin held out his arm and took to lead her outside. It was chilly, as the season was winding out of fall and into the harshness of winter, she nestled in closer to him and he put his arm around her shoulder. They made their way westward along her road that curves northward to the town center. There, Martin's tale had proved to be correct, 80 armed men stood, each bearing the crest of their respective towns, Red Bridge, Reigbottom's Glade and Stillwater. She watched as they all organized and barked coordinated orders amongst themselves, it had seemed that they had all trained together the way they were all so cooperative. They were ordered to bar and close up the main gates. Jain glanced down the street to the east, she saw a group of her own city militia taking defensive positions along the now sealed eastern gates. Martin was moving toward the nearest militiaman, a man named Johans Keibler, Jain recalled that he and Martin had worked together on the docks. She followed behind Martin quickly. Martin spoke softly enough to not draw attention, but loud enough so that Johans could hear him.

"Johans, what's happening?"

Johans turned around, with an irritated look on his face. He started to speak but cut himself short when he saw that it was Martin. He looked around and grabbed Martin by the shoulder and pulled him closer. Jain could barely make out what they were saying, but it was enough to formulate an idea of what horror was befalling Stillwater.

"Sothgardte invasion... poised on the attack... Legion is still three days out... roads are blockaded by the enemy... no escape."

Martin turned back to Jain, all the color from his face seemed to have been drained from him. She could make out the dark outlines around his eyes clearly now, he looked tired and worn. He calmly moved back to her and with enough force that he could muster, he held her close and spoke quietly into her ears.

"We need to get you to safety." he said.

Jain initally wanted to argue, but she saw in his face that he was much more worried about her own well being than his own. It was something that she had not often seen before. She pulled her head back and replied quietly.

"I'll board up the house, my father and I will stay in the cellar."

Martin shook his head.

"No, we need to get you where there will be guards..."

He could see in her face that she would not compromise. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Let's go, I'll help you with the preparations."

She took his hand and briskly turned back around, as she was doing so, she felt the first sprinkle of snow for the year, normally she would have took a moment and enjoyed the weather. But, Martin was already moving past her down the lane, he turned and looked at her and motioned her to follow.

------------------------

Deadbranch, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

3:53 pm

Thomas turned and saw Jain make her way southward down a lane between two homes. She was walking alongside a brown haired fellow that he had never met before. He was a tall, strong looking individual, he thought that Ann had told him that she hadn't settled down yet. It didn't matter now, the brown haired man looked like he knew what he was doing, and as long as she was safe that was all that mattered. He turned back to face Sgt. Mills who was barking out orders to runners and he was speaking with two other men, Thomas had figured them to be the commanders of Red Bridge and Stillwater's militia, as they had the same dire worn look about them that Sgt. Mills had, they concluded speaking and he nodded to the other two gentlemen and they made their ways off into the town hall. Sgt. Mills turned back to the troop and signalled for their attention, all men turned and became silent.

"We're going to do our best helping to board up any homes and help escort everyone to the main dockland warehouse. Once you're finished, go to the town hall, it has geen converted into a barracks for us and the Red Bridge milita. Get some rest, we're second up for watching the walls. Sgt. Gates here in Stillwater has graciously offered to take the first shift. Be ready to man the walls at 12:00 am."

Thomas felt a cold droplet land on his cheek. He turned his face skyward, it was beginning to snow, it was the first snowfall of the winter, it was something that he and Ann Marie had shared many times before, something that they cherished. But there was a coldness in the air that didn't settle well with him. It was a harsh cold that blew in from the north, it brought with it something. He couldn't put his finger on what that something was.

"Ok, it's starting to snow, let's get these people out of their homes and into the warehouse as soon as possible. Dismissed."

Thomas had made his way to the nearest home, there, he could see an elderly woman, wearing enough fur and wool to keep her warm in a glacier. He approached the older woman and offered his arm. The old woman looked up at Thomas, she smiled at him.

"You remind me of my son. He was handsome and tall like you."

Thomas smiled in return to the older woman's comment.

"Would you like me to escort you to the warehouse."

She smile and took his arm and hobbled alongside him slowly. There were people moving quickly all around them, it was a surprise that someone hadn't slammed into the slow moving old woman. Thomas looked around and realized that not a soul in sight had so much as a smile on their face, with the exception of the old woman. They slowly made their way down the lane to the Dockland's main Warehouse, the whole while the older woman was chatting about her long deceased son. Thomas had tried to focus on what she was saying, but the nagging thought of the snow kept creeping into his thoughts. Finally, they arrived at the entrance, where people were being huddled inside. He turned to the older woman and began to speak.

"Here we are, someone will help you find somewhere to sit inside."

Thomas moved to get the attention of the guard standing nearby, but the older woman stopped him by placing her hand on his forearm.

"I'll be fine dear, you've done enough for me. You go on, help someone else, I'll be fine from here on."

Thomas smiled to the older woman and began to walk towards the nearest house.

"Stay safe young man!" she called out, Thomas smiled and waved in thanks. He turned back to see if there was anything he could help with nearby and he heard the old woman call out from behind him.

"There's blood on the wind, there's going to be great tragedy tonight. That's what's on the wind." Thomas stopped and turned around to see that the old woman had vanished from sight.

-------------------------

[Val]

-------------------------

Deadbranch, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

8:13 pm

"Jain, you and your father are going to be safe here tonight, I'm going to go lend a hand at the north gate."

Jain grimaced, she knew now that she really was cruel for making Martin wait all these years, for toying with him. Behind her, she heard her father hacked a bit in the back room, she turned and saw him lying in his bed, holding a handkerchief over his mouth. He offered a smile in return, but quickly covered his mouth as he began to cough again. She turned back to Martin and saw him moving to the stairs.

"Martin!" she began to follow him up the stairs. As she did, he turned and began to protest, but he was cut off as she reached up and hugged him.

"Martin, for a long time I've been very cruel to you."

Her hair had fallen over her face as she looked at him.

"What do you mean cruel? You've done nothing wrong." Martin responded, his voice was uneasy.

Jain pulled her blond hair back, her green eyes damp with welling tears.

"Now that you're going, and it seems like our time is up, I am terribly sorry I never gave you what you.. and I wanted." her voice was beginning to crack.

Martin turned his head to the side, he began to breath heavily, he moved his feet around nervously. He looked away for a moment, turning his head to the side. Jain responded by tracing her hand around his jawline.

"Martin, I love you."

For the first time in her life she had been able to tell someone that, she had never realized how much she really did mean it. Perhaps it was fate that brought her knowledge at the end, but it didn't seem to matter to Martin. He bent down and kissed her, it seemed as if the whole, cruel event was coming to a halt, she hadn't felt that kind of passion before, the raw emotion. She finally admitted to him something that she knew for so long. It felt wonderful, she wished that she could have stayed there, locked in that kiss for years. That when she let him go, everything would be fine, that there were no armed men outside and no threat of death hanging in the clouds. But there was always reality to be found in the happiest of places.

"I love you too Jain, I always have." he held her close.

A few more quiet moments passed before Martin finally let her go, she managed a smile.

"Please, come back Martin."

He nodded and smiled.

"I swear to you, I will."

He started up the stairs without a second word. She heard him slam the door shut and lock it. Then she heard the pounding as he began to seal up the front door.

She walked back into the main area where she had brought down her father's bed. He was lying with a smile on his face. He was fumbling through his pockets. As he did so, he began to speak.

"Jain, I planned on giving you this on your wedding day, but, it seems like the closest thing to that will you finally admitting to the one thing that I knew for years now."

Jain began to shift uncomfortably.

"Martin is a wonderful young man, I would have gladly considered him a son." Alfred mustered a smile and then continued to dig through his pockets.

"On the far wall, there is a large oak chest with a single lock on it, can you go grab it for me, Jain?"

She stood up and knew immediately of what box he was referring to, it had been there for a while now, and Jain had never found the key and her father would never tell her it's contents. It was a tiny chest with a single silver lock on it, should she had wished, she could have pried it open, but for some reason simple beauty in that tiny chest kept her curiosity at bay. She grabbed the small oak box off the wall and returned to her father and placed it on his bedside.

"Here we are." he pulled out a small silver key, he handed it to Jain.

"Open the chest.

Jain took the key from his hand and grabbed the chest off the bed. She put the small ornate key in the dusty lock, she opened it to reveal a large charm necklace, bearing a beautiful sapphire emblazoned in the center. The lantern lights danced off the surface of the golden charm.

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

"I bought that for your mother when we first were married. She always wore it under her blouse. I want it to be yours now."

Jain smiled weakly and leaned up and kissed her father on the head. She fastened the thin, yet surprisingly strong chain around her neck. She began to admire the necklace around her neck.

"You look just like your mother did. It makes me happy to see her once more in you."

Her father smiled, then suddenly began hacking once again. Jain heard the pounding from upstairs had stopped. Like a peel of thunder her mind snapped back to the gravity of the situation, and the pressing weight of the doom that would befall showed more heavily now, in the silence of the cellar.

Now began the wait.

----------------------------------

Deadbranch, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

4:13 am

War King Malahek sat on his giant of a horse just on the forests edge, his vast army all just outside of the outsider's scope of vision. Even the weather heralded their assault, a fierce northern wind blew down on the port town of Stillwater. The bitter snows whipped around his furs, his heavy iron mail was ice cold to the touch, but it was nothing that a man of the Sothgardte wasn't used to. He was born with the snow surrounding him, his mother had died during his birth and had left him there to die in the snow. It was by force of destiny that the wolves had found him.

But that was years ago, and he was not there now. He had crafted his world, and now he would destroy theirs.

His field commanders road up, their painted horses covered in the same mail and leather armor that they were. Grim and violent men, Malahek had hand picked them from the masses.

"We stand poised to attack on your command, War King." the bear skull helmed commander had said.

Malahek nodded calmly to them. With that, the four Commanders road off down the ranks.

Malahek raised his massive chipped axe into the air and let out a soul shattering roar and kicked his massive steed into motion. The world was his for the taking. It was that Dusk evening that the roar of the Sothgardte could be heard all through the highlands.

--------------------


Deadbranch, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

4:40 am

Thomas sat upon the wooden fortifications with an ill settling feeling. He could see them, their black forms racing down the hills towards them. They were the men who killed his father, his lifelong dream was to face them down and slay them in battle. It seemed like tonight would prove to be the fruition of that dream, and it was a sour pick. There were few Archers on the walls, and there were only a handful of men who could afford and effectively use a rifle. The sky was littered with arrows and alight with the sparse sounds of rifle fire. This did little to halt the waves of Sothgardte men that were pouring out of the mountain like a stream. The snow was pelting down hard now, it had turned from a soft fall to a hard rain mix, in normal circumstances most men would be shivering to the bone with the combination of the chill wind and the icy rain, but most men just watched as the massive Sothgardte men collided with the wooden walls.

"Move from the walls, take positions near the gates!" Sgt. Mills cried. They had been placed at the north gate. As they moved down the ladders and onto the cold ground below, you could hear the roars as the Northmen were pounding into the walls, doing their damnest to make a breach.

Thomas started to move to the center of the road, his group would take center stage to the assault, as he walked underneath the catwalks above, a rifleman came falling down from above, an axe planted deep into his forehead. Thomas ignored the grizzly scene and ran past the chaos to stand next to Bernard. Sgt. Mills was standing facing the doorway with his sword sheathed. With the wind whipping the braziers into a frenzy, the light was casting ghostly shadows off every detail of his carved and hardened face, and yet despite the clear intent of murder on his face, he seemed serene.

Sgt. Mills turned back to them.

"Whatever you do, remember, this could be your home if we do not make a stand now. Do not flee, they are savages, but they are men. They bleed just as you and I!"

The doors began to pound violently.

Bernard started to shake at Thomas' left.

"I don't want to die here Thomas, not yet." Bernard shouted, trying to vocalize above the pounding and the roaring of the Sothgardte raiders.

Thomas turned stared at him, the fear that was radiating off Thomas was similar in all the men around him, then it occured to him.

"I'm not afraid." he whispered.

The thought was a strong reminder of what he was fighting for, his friends, his family, his home and a cold revenge. Bernard turned and looked back at him, sweat beading off his brow despite the damning cold.

"You won't die tonight Bernard, I promise you that."

The violent pounding came to a sudden halt, the whole north gate which was just moments ago erupting with a cacophony of violent screams had all but stopped. The whipping winds and the chilled bite from the north blowing storm was the only thing that could be heard. All those present gave one another uneasy looks. For the first time since the battle had started, Sgt. Mills unsheathed his sword. He looked back to Thomas, in his eyes he knew what was about to happen. Thomas gripped his spear tightly and braced his footing. Sgt. Mills took a few steps backward. Suddenly a massive thud echoed into the night. Followed moments later by another deafening thud. The gate began to burst from it's hinges as the heavy pine began to splinter.

"Fall back into position!" cried Sgt. Mills

The Archers took lines along the sides of the road and behind the spear men.

Thomas raised his spear up in front of him, just like he had been trained to do. His fellows did the same.

Soon, the gates were thrown open, and the horde poured in, axes raised in a mighty roar. Thomas braced back his left foot, the first savage came flying out, his blue eyes bearing down on him, Thomas saw nothing in the moments that followed, he just remembered the hate that he felt when he sat on his father's Tombstone. He jammed the spear into the Northman's throat, he felt his entire Body rock under the weight, but his rage proved to fuel his strength greater than he imagined. He kicked the savage off and waited for the next. Another game in, this time, slower, he raised his club above his head and swung down hard, Thomas sidestepped the attack and drove the spear into his chest. The savage grimaced and began to raise his mace again. Thomas retracted his spear and drove it into the chest again, this time, leaning in and kicked the Sothgardte warrior's feet out from underneath him. He twisted the spear and ripped it out, then rammed his boot into the warrior's face. He looked up and saw that his companions had long ago been pushed back down the road, that it was only he and another man who stood and fought. He began to move back into formation, as he did he felt his right leg give out. A sudden sharp pain was all he felt as he dropped to his knees. He pulled a tiny knife out from his leg, it had punctured something in his leg and he had no power left in it, he could barely move it without screaming in agony. He heard the pounding of feet and he turned back to raise his hands in defense, but all he saw was the hard end of a Sothgardte mace.

[Val]

(Just curious, if you've been following this at all, would it be a bit easier to read if I annotate a bit,. You know, elaborate on the strange terms I use, and help give a little insight on what's going on?)

Deadbranch, 4th, 1029th year of the Empire's Reign

5:23 am

Jain and her father had heard the sounds of chaos coming from outside. Somehow, her father had managed to fall into a weak sleep, amongst the tumultuous sounds of battle. Jain rested her hand on his forehead, it was searing to the touch. The stress of the evening and the lack of fresh air was doing irreparable damage to her father. Even if they did make it out of this night alive she wasn't sure that he would live much longer, the harshness of unaccommodated travel was not an option for him at any rate and she knew she couldn't stay here. She rested her head against his chest and felt his breath flutter in his lungs and die down. It seemed like he was fighting to even breath. Her father would die this evening, she knew this to be true and it was a reality that she didn't want to have to face, not now at least, not while there was so much happening, so much death.

It almost seemed too much to bear, she had finally admitted her deep seated love for the perfect person and now she wasn't even sure if he was still alive. She began to feel tears well up in her eyes.

No!

She can't start crying, she can't break down. She sat up and grasped the charm around her neck. She held her mother's necklace in her hands and stared into the deep cerulean inflections of the beautiful stone. She laid her head against the wall and for a brief moment, the horror of the night faded into the dancing light reflecting through the sapphire gem and she began to think back onto all the fond memories of her mother. It was her mother who was the one who really helped her after the move from Reigbottom Glade. If it weren't for her, she wasn't sure she would have been able to bounce back after losing her friend. She remembered her mother lying with her as she would cry in those first few months of their departing, and she would spitefully declare that she would never have a friend like Ann Marie ever again. Every time she would get upset and angry at her father for moving her away from Reigbottom Glade, her mother would be there, to let her fume and fuss, and ever patiently she would wait until at the end she would crumble. She remembered the way her hair fell off her mother's shoulders when she would lay on her chest and weep, sobbing pitiful apologies for her actions, her mother would just stroke her blond hair and calmly tell her that everything will be all right. She remembered the smell of her mother's perfume every Sunday morning when her father and her would go to the chapel and attend mass. She remembered her cool voice, soothing her as she sang out above the other chanting voices. She also remembered how quiet it was at mass after her mother had died, it seemed like there was a void where her soothing voice used the ring out. She remembered her mother's cooking, she remembered one evening that she had almost set the house on fire after Jain had her preoccupied on the docks with her dress. She had been quietly fishing off the dock when she got up and her dress had snagged on a loose nail. She called and cried out for help, her mother came flying from the back door. Jain was quiet as her mother helped her un-snag the dress from the protruding nail, it seemed that once her mother started to pull loose the fine cotton, her father began shouting from inside, a black smoke was starting to billow out the kitchen window, she dropped the dress and turned to run inside. Jain moved to run as well but she didn't dare tear her new dress. So she stood there helpless and she remembered she could smell the smoke, the red pine that her father had shipped there from the mills at Red Bridge for the house to be built with. She could almost smell that distinct smell of that red pine burning now.

She did smell it.

Her eyes moved from the sapphire pendant and saw smoke billowing down the stairwell from upstairs. She stood quickly to rouse her father when, she heard the only door left unlocked being tossed open, it was the back door off the docks on the far side of the cellar. She immediately began to put out the brass lantern and the odd candles she had found. Silently, she crept to the corner near her father's bedside. She sat quietly, not daring to breath despite that the chaotic sounds from outside now poured in. She heard hurried footsteps down the small set of stairs. The whole cellar was dark, she could barely make out the burning orange light being cast from outside. She heard the intruder stumbling over old wine crates, grunting with frustration. She saw the figure stop and turn around towards the door, groping his way back outside. She let herself breath again, but like a last cruel punishment by that damning disease, her father let out a terrible hacking cough, she immediately moved to cover his mouth, but the damage had been done and it was too late. The intruder stopped moving suddenly, and turned back quickly. A familiar voice then sounded out in the darkness.

"Alfred?! Is that you?!"

With a spring of relief she stood up and immediately let out a yell.

"Martin! We're in here!"

She moved past her father's bed and began to strike at a match to light the lantern. As the light cut into the darkness Martin came stumbling past through the clutter, he was covered in sweat and blood. Jain moved closer to him, holding the lantern by her head.

"Martin! Are you all right?!"

Ignoring the gnawing voice in the back of her head to ask about what was happening, all her focus and attention was set on looking around for any open or grievous wounds on Martin's body. Martin placed his hand on hers and moved it from his chest to her side.

"That's... not my blood." He stuttered a bit when he saw the look of horror sheen on her face. He took the lantern from her and moved over to her father's resting body. She started to question him but the crack of splintering wood interrupted her. Martin turned back with a dire look on his face.

"We have to get you out of here, they are burning the town, and your home." He started to walk past her but she stepped in his path, the same incredulous look on her face. Martin shook his head.

"We've got to go! you're whole house could cave in on you any moment!"

"Where will we go! They are out there, the Northmen! We can't flee!"

Martin turned back to Alfred and sighed, he grasped her hand.

"I've got a boat tied up at the east end of the dock, by the trees, it's only big enough for two."

Jain stood, shocked, despite all the signs that tonight would be a crushing victory for the Northmen, she hadn't faced the reality of the war, and the losses that it brought. She had been putting off the thought of her father dying all this time, but now his death was staring down at her.

"No, we're going to take him."

She let go of his hand and moved to her father's bedside, she put her hands under his head. Martin looked to the smoke building at the stairwell, then back at Jain.

"Help me Martin!" she pleaded with him, he saw the despair in her eyes.

"Jain..." he began.

"Martin, please, I can't lose him too." her green eyes were welling with tears, Martin handed the lantern to her, he knelt over and slid his hands under the frail old man, lifting him up to his chest. He turned and nodded to Jain, she held the lantern out in front of her and began clearing a path to the exit. She ascended the tiny stairwell to clouded dark skies, and whipping snowy winds and a bright orange reminder that her home was being destroyed. She sat the lantern down in the grass and helped Martin and her father out of the cellar. Once Martin was outside on the small incline leading to the docks, she heard her father weakly call out.

"Put me down Martin."

Martin stopped and looked down, he was staring up at him with his fading green eyes.

"I said put me down."

Martin did as he was told, despite the motions of Jain to stop. Alfred coughed as he laid against the wet, snow covered ground. Jain moved in front of Martin and knelt down beside her father and put her hands underneath him.

"Come on dad, please! We have to go!"

Alfred began to cough and Jain stopped moving him for a moment, Alfred looked at her.

"Leave me here Jain, there's only room for two, you won't make it down the coast fast enough with three."

Jain, ignoring her father's request, began to move him again. His hand lifted up and brushed against her cheek, it was clammy and soaked with a cold sweat.

"Jain, I love you, but you have to let me die here. You know as well as I do that even if you make it past the Northmen with me, I won't live long enough to make it to Reigbottom Glade. I'm dying, let me die here, with this home I made for you."

Jain began to feel those tears she had been biting back on for so long begin to well up again in bitter defiance to her surroundings and she continued to try and lift him.

"Jain, please..."

She gave into the sorrow and began to sob, she fell into his chest and cried bitterly. She was murdering him by leaving him here, how could he ask her to do this? She felt his weak hand stroke her hair softly.

"Jain, go and live with Martin and Ann Marie, be happy. I'm going to be with your mother on the Green Hills of Jovine, we'll be lying there, happily drinking ourselves to sleep, only to wake up and feast with the Arch Diocese of those long dead Saints at the grand tables." Tears began rolling down his face. "Your mother will be singing, and she'll ask me, 'How was Jain doing?', and I'll tell her, 'She found herself a good man.' and we'll smile and toast to you're children."

He began to cough a bit, and Jain lifted her head up and managed a weak smile through her tears.

"I love you so much Daddy." She kissed him on his tear stained cheek.

"Go Jain, please." He closed his eyes and smiled.

Martin moved closer and helped Jain to her feet, he held her close as she began to weep, after a few brief moments, he looked down.

"Goodbye Alfred, it was a pleasure to work for you."

Alfred opened his eyes and winked one last time to him.

"Goodbye Daddy." Jain's voice was barely a whisper and yet, Alfred looked to her and replied.

"Goodbye sweetheart."

He then closed his eyes again, Jain watched him as he quit struggling to breath, and his face relaxed against the cold snow, for fear of crying again. She turned away and nodded to Martin, he started moving down the lane with Jain in tow. She looked back once more and saw the licks of orange flame rising off the roof of her home. Then noticed the horror that lie to the west, the village of Stillwater was burning.

"Martin! The others!" She pointed to the warehouse, it was crumbling as the flames consumed it's massive wooden structure. Martin stopped and looked back for a moment, a pang of agony stretched across his face, he turned and motioned toward the tiny boat anchored a way down the dock, at the far east end. He started to continue but Jain held her ground.

"Martin! We can't leave them!"

Martin looked back at her tear stained eyes, pleading with him to have some mercy. He cast his eyes down. His voice was heavy as he spoke.

"They are all dead already Jain, they swarmed the town and tore down the gates." He shook his head. "I was at the warehouse, they tried to lock us in before they set the fire, a few got out in time. I was able to escape onto the docks with a few of my brothers, one ambushed me, I pulled my pocket knife out and stabbed him in the chest. I escaped back into into town, I ran back to see what I could do, but it was too late, they barred the doors and had already set the fire." Martin began to grimace against his own sorrow as he continued. "They found my brothers, they were rounded up and executed right in front of me."

Jain looked at the pain on his face, and the blood on his chest. He wasn't lying, how could he? She looked up at him as he watched the remains of the Warehouse crumble. His family had been in that building, he watched his brothers being executed. He had been so patient with her before knowing that time was short and how all she could think about was getting to that boat, she felt guilty for rushing him, but she started to move past him down the docks, she held his hand.

"Come on Martin." She said softly. He turned and nodded, there were no tears on his face, but she could see the emptiness in his stare. As they reached the tiny boat, Jain had quickly climbed inside, Martin had knelt down to un-tether the boat from the landing. Jain sat in the boat and grasped an oar, the other was missing, they wouldn't be able to escape quickly enough with one oar! She turned back to Martin right as he was tossing the rope down.

"Martin, we're missing an oar!"

He looked at her and registered what she was saying. He cursed quietly and turned back, there were a pair of oars lying up a few paces on the embankment. He quickly ran up and grabbed one. He turned and began to hurry back, as he did, Jain saw movement in the tree line near the top of the embankment.

"Grabacht! Nocht!"

The gruff howls of two Sothgardte warriors came bellowing out of the tree lines. Martin turned and recognized the mortal danger they were now in. He began to sprint back to the docks, Jain saw them come bolting out of the trees like a pair of tumbling boulders. They gained on Martin, he slid on the snow as he reached the docks and fell to one knee. They were nearing him now, their feet accustomed to the weather worn hills of the North. Martin stood and ran to the docks. As he reached, he put the oar against the back of the boat and began to shove off hard. He ran the distance of the planks pushing as hard as he could.

"Jump! Martin jump!"

But he didn't jump, he threw the oar into the boat with her, she sat and stared at him.

"Row Jain! Row the damn boat!" he shouted. She looked down and began to fumble with the oars, when she looked up, she saw that Martin had pulled out his pocket knife and turned. The Sothgardte men had now stepped onto the docks. The first one ran at him, his club raised, Martin sidestepped the attack and shoved him. But before Martin could continue, the other had jammed his iron axe head into Martin's back.

"MARTIN!" Jain shrieked.

Martin fell to his knees, the other warrior stood, and with a roar of anger, kicked Martin across the jaw, sending him headlong into the water. Jain began to scream, they turned their attention on her now, she had just been drifting after that heavy push Martin had given her, she wasn't very far from the end of the docks at all.

"Grabacht!!"

They roared and dove off the end of the docks into the water and began swimming quickly towards her. Jain screamed again and began to fumble with the oars in a hurry. She couldn't get them set right, and in her rush she had dropped one in the water.

She just started paddling then with the single oar as her father had shown her, quickly, trying to put as much distance between her and her pursuers. But it wasn't enough, the first man grabbed the lip of the boat he started pulling it under him, trying to capsize the tiny vessel with his bulk, Jain had pulled the oar from the water and cracked the man across the skull frantically, she raised it again to strike but his fur covered hand grabbed the oar and yanked it from her grasp. Then she felt the boat rock from the opposite side. She panicked and lost her balance as the boat turned over. Strong hands grasped her, groping her and restraining her as she kicked and screamed in a virulent mix of horror and defiance. They pulled her through the water, the whole while shoving her head under the water, she struggled to stay above the surface. Kicking and biting and punching to no avail, finally she felt a heavy blow to the side of her head and she saw the world go upside down.

She barely remembered being dragged out of the water, she barely remembered being dragged through the city streets.

It was when she started to finally come out of the haze, that she was thrown roughly onto the ground, she groaned and tried her hardest to gather her bearings, she clambered to stand by grabbing the nearest steady thing she could find, she placed her hand on something with thick coarse fur. In confusion, she looked up to find that she had her hand on the flank of a gigantic gray wolf, it snarled and bore it's massive bloody teeth. All haze was gone and she fell back and crawled away from the heaving beast. She cornered herself against a nearby building and saw another ravenous wolf come up from behind. The fear was palpable in the air, as she blubbered and reached for anything that could be used to defend herself from these terrible beasts. As her eyes locked with the cold blue gaze of the massive predators, she didn't notice a third walk near, but soon a shadow was cast over her sight and then she saw that something appeared, standing in between the two that was far worse.

A man so large that words did not fathom his creation. He had more scars on his body than any twenty men could bear. He was bare chested, his dark black mane covered his head like a shroud. He was holding a gigantic notched axe in his right hand. He was covered from head to toe in dark blood and ash. He had only one eye, the other was replaced with a gruesome black scar. His single eye bore a hole into her that sent such utter revulsion through her that she almost believed that he was not even a man, he was a demon, something written about by long dead pagan scholars, something told to misbehaving children by their parents to warn them to be good. He was fear incarnate.

He strode next to her, his massive hands reaching down, she tried to crawl but couldn't move, she was so paralyzed by this man's terrifying presence. He grabbed her by her throat and lifted her to meet his gaze, his single ice blue eye reflected such a bitter and cold hatred for her. He sniffed her hair suddenly, she felt her breath began to wane as he choked the life out of her. He reached down and cupped her breast, she felt her skin crawl as he did so and she moved to push his hand away. Without so much as regard, he ignored her recoil and grasped her hip. She tried to cry out but her voice was being choked from her lungs. He turned back to the wolves and snarled, he then turned back to her again, she was turning blue. He snorted once and dropped her. She grasped her throat and choked again, gasping for air. She heard him mutter something sullenly to a nearby Northmen. He turned and walked from her, his massive lupine guardians striding behind him, biting at one another. She sat up and she felt herself becoming very feint. Her life had been torn asunder in a matter of hours, it was too much for her mind to bear. She started to feel that familiar haze creep back from the corner of her eyes and she started to fall. As she did, she saw the fur bound feet of another Sothgardte man walk closer, she felt him grasp her waist and lift her. But she saw nothing more, she lost all consciousness and the last thing she remembered was seeing the ground quickly moving away.