Young Writers Society

Plot: Once upon a time, there was an King who reigned over the lands of Varada. He had many sons and made them Governors of the various states within Varada. All was peaceful and calm, the Kingdom prospered under his wise rule. Then came the day that the King was assassinated. The Princes accused one another of killing their father. Accusations became feuds, and feuds became wars. The wars of succession had begun.

Even as armies assembled, a rumor swirled around the Kingdom, whispers of a place high in the alpine country, where peace reigned, food was plentiful, and where someone might start over. Nestled among glacial valleys and mountain lakes, was the Mountain Aerie, where the gryphons reigned and exiles live quietly.

Refugees began heading to the mountains; trying to escape from the madness. Our story begins with the exodus of the refugees.

Prince Ryden tightened the fur edge of his cloak as he marched down the main hall of his manor, entourage scrambling to keep up. The peasants were escaping. If this continued, he was going to be king of a nation that was made up of only his manor. His twin brother had sent word that he would soon be arriving, but had given no reason for his visit. Ryden hoped it was to be an amiable visit, he needed more allies. Any allies, really. Porters opened the doors wide at his signal as his brother's black horses rode into the courtyard.

"It's been too long, brother."

Elias had never thought he'd live to see this day. Chased out of his own home and him at fifty-eight. Fifty-eight! He was too old to be starting again, too old to be seeing the destruction of the kingdom. If it hadn't been for his girls, he wouldn't be leaving. Ifs, buts, would have beens. They were none of them any good anymore.

"Da, we've got to get a move on." Megora was a sprightly girl with quick smiles and quicker feet. She seemed always to be on the move, much like the mother had been. Elias was stationary though and just the idea of leaving the house he'd built with his own two hands- "Da!"

"Alright, alright." Elias stepped over the threshold and closed the door. He turned the key in the lock, though it seemed a futile action. If they ever came back, they were sure to find the village burned to the ground. Elias put one foot in front of the other and was grateful when his youngest lent him her arm.

They made their way over the bridge that spanned the river running through their village to join the rest of the gathering entourage. They were a small band. Nothing but elderly men and women folk; it made his heart ache to think of how the land had been drained of sons. They'd gone to fight, or to die. Probably both. Some had gone willingly in the early days but more and more had been taken by force. Elias had lost three himself. He had only daughters now and there was little enough he could do to protect them so they were going. They planned to travel North through increasingly mountainous land in the hope of reaching a fabled safe zone. It was all craziness and nonsense really but what else could they do? Where else could they go? The land to the South was a ruin of fire and war and there was only so much time before their village would be swallowed up by the madness.

The gryphon and its rider landed quietly on the road above the ravine. The rider dismounted and peered into the ravine, while the gryphon searched the surrounding forest for trouble. In the ravine lay the remnants of a party of refugees. The splinters of what used to be a wagon lay at the bottom, and surrounding it were bodies of people that had been in the wagon when had gone over the side.

"Is there any way someone could have survived it?" the rider asked.

"We should make sure anyway," the gryphon responded. The rider nodded and took his place on the gryphon's back. They flew down to the bottom of the ravine next to the wagon. There was an elderly couple, both face down. They were clearly dead. Nearby was the body of a boy; also dead. The rider knelt by this body and examined him. He couldn't have been more than seven. The cloth was poor and he had nothing of value.

The rider then turned to look at the cart and that's when he saw the girl.

Heatherington trudged through the slush and mud. All around him were the dregs of humanity. He sneered inwardly at them. Mainly the old, the young and the women - though there was a big youth his age - they were all dressed in furs and rags. Some had crude metal jewellery, which he made a note of, but there was no coin. The youth wore a boiled leather vest and carried a spear with a fire hardened point though, which Heatherington had his eye on . He made sure to keep a meek, downtrodden look on his face, though inside he was burning with nervous excitement. If he pulled this off then he was going to be considered a full member of the clan. Tobias had said so.
A shrill cawing made his head snap up. That was the prearranged signal. At least, he hoped it was. It seemed too high-pitched to be a real crow and that was what Tobias had said to look for. Tobias was clever with things like these. Heatherington looked behind him and sure enough, there were a pair of dark shapes moving through the weak evening sunlight. His heart began to race as he cried out,
"Look out! Bandits!"
The confusion was chaotic. The two dozen or so refugees began slogging up the slope as fast as they could, screaming and some crying. Only the armed youth kept his cool, watching the band's rear as he easily kept pace with them
This was exactly what the bandits wanted.
Barely twenty feet ahead of where Heatherington had raised the alarm, the already narrow pass contracted to a path barely wide enough for two men to pass abreast. If the fleeing refugees had looked closely at the ground they were walking over they may have noticed the slight pink tinge it had. But of course, they didn't. What they did notice however, was the pair of burly men hidden behind two large shields blocking their path. Too late they realised they were trapped.
The slaughter didn't take long. Soon only Heatherington, three young women and the big youth remained. He faced off against the group of snarling bandits, spear levelled at waist height and Heatherington at his side.
"You don't have to die here, boy", spat Wolf. Wolf was Tobias' lieutenant, a hard unforgiving man.
"I'm going to take a few of you with me when I do".
"No, you won't", Heatherington replied as he pressed his knife into his back. The youth quickly dropped his spear.
"What's more important to you, boy. Loyalty and honour, or life?" This was from Tobias himself, wiry and cunning.
"Life, but I'm a better person than all of you".
Tobias smiled at this. He asked the youth's name and received, "Artax".
"Well Artax, here's my proposal".
He outlined it. Artax didn't look happy, but he accepted.

Renias waked though the crowded streets of Mylonos. This was one of th biggest capitals and Renias hated going here. The streets were packed with people trying to sell useless things that would break and collapse as soon as you took it away from the stall and carriages waiting to take rich persons to and from houses. Renias preferred the country air and trotting through mud to get satasfaction on of killing a deer. Instead he had this. Oh well he thought to him self looks like I have to keep walking. He made this trip every five months. The average trek for supplies. A
Person bumped into Renias
"watch where your going mate." he said in a disgusted voice. Renias kept walking not wanting to draw attention to himself. he turned
Left at the end of the street into an alley he didn't usually pass through. he could see why. The putrid smell of garbage and waste was nearly unbearable. Scabs we lining the streets hoping that at any second he would trp over and become vulnerable. He put his hand on the hilt of sword and didn't take it off until the end of the alley. The street he walked into wasn't nearly as busy as the main street. A few people were wondering around, but that was it. Good, he thought to himself, I don't like the soldiers walking into my business. I walked over to the door of the biggest house on the street. I knocked in a pattern so the person inside would know it was him. The dor burst open and there was a strange scruffy man standing in the door way.
"you haven't given your payments in." he said to the man in a calm but threatening voice. The mans eyes widened in shock as he realized that Renais wasn't going to spare his life if he paid. Renias was a assassin.

I glared up at the rider keeping one eye on the gryphon as well. "Are you alright?" He asked softly. "I'm alive I can't say that much for my family." I replied coolly. I tightened my hand around the hilt of my dagger. "What's your name?" He asked still soft. "Nikita Rial." I said. I noticed his look of surprise at my cloak. It was made of wool the thickest my family could find and dyed black. "What?" I snapped hearing my voice tremble. I was trying to sound brave and I prayed he couldn't hear the fear in my voice.

They were set on by bandits as they crossed the mountain steppes. Elias was on foot, despite his bad hip, and in a position to see them early on. Just a small group. A small group but armed to the teeth and young and wiry, standing on the balls of their feet.

"We mean you no harm!" their leader hollowed, but what he really meant was that they meant them no harm so long as they handed over all their supplies and a woman or two.

"Then put down your weapons!" Hansel, the leader of their own party called back. There was laughter from the bandits and a thwack as an arrow came out of the undergrowth and planted itself in a tree.

"Well. I mean you no harm, my brethren on the other hand..." The bandit leader gave a casual shrug and there was malice in his eyes. Elias clenched his hands into fists but what could he do? Armed with only a staff and his hip as bad as it was. He drew his daughters behind him and urged them down the path. They would most likely starve without the supplies but-

"Hold up, old man." Elias froze and laid a stilling hand on Megora's arm. Not the time for talking back. Not the time for-

"You said we could go peacefully!" Megora spat. "Or did you want our clothes first. Da's staff perhaps?"

"Not the staff but the clothes, now there's an interesting suggestion."

Heatherington was very pleased with himself. Not only had he been officially accepted into the clan for his actions, but now that Artax was being considered, it made him below Heatherington. As an added plus, Heatherington had been given Artax's spear and vest for his first proper order, by Tobias' command. Tobias was fair like that.
As his first job, Heatherington had to check up on Traven, who was in charge of a small group of some of the younger bandits that had been sent to leech off of a different pass. Traven was Tobias brother, so he knew he could be trusted with an independent command. Tobias was smart like that.
There were six main passes through the mountains that refugees were trickling through, and Tobias had said that he wanted all of them watched before autumn was out, and the passes really started to fill. He said that when it got colder and supplies ran short, more and more people would be desperate to flee and the bandits would get richer and stronger.
Heatherington pulled himself over a slight rise, just in time to witness his fellow bandits confronting a group of peasants. He hunched down, realising this as a valuable opportunity to appraise Traven's performance. He did, however, take note of the young women hidden behind an old man. Heatherington hadn't had time to 'sample' the women they'd taken in the last raid - what with being entrusted with this important task - but these looked like game little fillies.

Varlan leaned forwards in the saddle, both the horse and himself and near half dead from exhaustion. A dark stain streaked from the base of his helmet to the tail of his green surcoat. Fortunately the blood was not his, it must have been the young footman who had guarding the stables or the bearded sergeant who had come at him with a dagger in the feast hall, Varlan could not be sure. The golden bull emblazoned on his chest was cut open, its tattered remains was all that identified his allegiance. Its just a simple two day trip, the Mad Cow had told him, Just ride to the manor and bring the lord with you to give his oath to the prince. Instead they had been attacked as they feasted with the lord and now his entire conroi was dead and he had gone at least ten leagues in the wrong direction. The glorious life of a mercenary. At least he still had his sword and his armour, both still covered with blood.
“We'll get through this, won't we Arseface?” Varlan rubbed the horse's neck. The beast snorted back at him. Arseface plodded along the dusty ill-kept road at what was at best a lethargic pace. Varlan did not care, they would come across a stream or village eventually where they could rest. Even without checking his purse Varlan knew he lacked the funds to pay for food and board at even the cheapest of inns. Charity and robbery were his options now, most likely robbery going by past occurrences. Before long he spotted a small campfire and made his way towards it. A group of men and women sat around it, no larger than two dozen at best he reckoned.
“Could I bother you for a place by your fire?” He called when they came into view. He did not want to spook them and it was best to be polite until he knew them better.
“It'll cost you.” A dirt covered man, who lacked more than a few teeth answered. Varlan inclined his head.
“Then I shall have to decline.” He replied, beginning to turn Arseface away.
“No. I insist.” The gap toothed man grinned, climbing to his feet. Only then did Varlan noticed the bruises on the women's faces and the glint of steel in the men's hands.
“Bugger.” Arseface snorted in agreement.

The rider looked at Nikita carefully, then he sat back and relaxed.

"Ms. Rial, I am Simon, this gryphon is Alden. We are both rangers for the Mountain Aerie. The ruler of the Mountain Aerie, the Matron has ordered us and our brethren to patrol the mountain roads and to escort refugees into the Mountain Aeries. We also have instructions to dismantle the various bandits and brigands that have been roaming the roads," the rider said.

"They were here, an hour before. They frightened the horses and we fell into the ravine. I don't know where they went after," Nikita said coldly.

"Alden?"

"There's a narrow pass ahead, it's good for ambushing people. I bet they went up there and waited. You thinking of taking them out?" Alden asked.

"It would be fun," Simon said.

"What about the girl?"

"Nikita," she corrected.

"She can come with us, or you can take her back to the Aerie while I take care of them," Simon said. "Or perhaps she'd rather stay here and bury her folks and wait for us to come back," Simon suggested.

I closed my families eyes and then kissed their cheeks. "I'll be here." I said taking out a spade from the cart. "There's a leader he has three scars over his right eye. Kill him first." I added looking up at Simon. "Why?" He asked as I started to dig. "He took my oldest sister just before the cart fell. Her name is Arianna." I said looking at the ground. "She's most likely dead by her own hand or theirs if you can please bring her back so I may bury her as well." I added quietly.

Renias wiped the blood off his blade and cleaned up his clothes and hands. He put his hand on the mans forehead and recited the prayer of death. He cut off the mans finger and slipped it into a cotton sleeve. Renias would need proof of the assassination to get his payment from the Delini Brotherhood. He then grabbed the body and chucked it into a fireplace. Renias then wrote a note that he then stuck on the door:
To whom it may concern,
I have gone to my brothers house to stay for a couple of weeks and will be back in a couple of weeks. If you need to contact me please wait until I get back to my house.
yours sincerely,
Robert
He exited the property and began on his way to his secluded hideout, where the Delini brotherhood will surely be waiting for him. He slipped his hood on and stepped onto main street. Renias had barely walked five steps before a heavy hand appeared on is shoulder.
"Your under arrest for the strict violation of Governor Prodo's rule one hundred-fifteen." He said in a deep accent that was nearly not understandable.
"well maybe, not everyone has time to read that stupid...BOOK!" Hesaid as he pulled his word out and thrust it into the guards chest. There was no point trying to get away quietly; most of the main street had stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Renias sprinted all the way to the gate where he was greeted by twenty guards.

Every elite unit tends to have a different style of fighting and the Gryphon Rangers were no exception. While other fighting units would have unique armor and weaponry, the gryphon rangers differentiated themselves by carrying neither. Stealth and speed were the trademarks of the Rangers. Weapons were an unnecessary weight and would frequently escalate a situation.

Walking along a mountain road into a canyon, by himself though, was not particularly stealthy, but Simon's goal wasn't to avoid being seen, but to be ambushed. Nearby, Alden would wait until Simon sent a signal. The sight of a gryphon would scare off their quarry.

Up ahead though he heard the yelling of a conversation, between an old man and an arrogant one. From their conversation, it was clear that they were bandits. When an arrow came from the underbrush and stuck itself into the tree, Simon decided to switch tactics.

He immediately backed away from the scene and went into the forest. He moved quietly and quickly until he spotted the archer. His bow was drawn and he was completely focused on the people on the road. It was not difficult to sneak up on him.

"Pardon me," Simon said behind him. The bandit spun around. Simon quickly struck him in the throat twice. The bandit collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe. Simon quietly killed him and took his bow.

"This is the last time I will warn you," the bandit leader said as Simon let the arrow fly. The arrow hit him in the knee.

"DARUS!" the leader bellowed as he fell to the ground. Apparently that was the name of the dead archer. Simon reloaded, and fired again, this time striking a bandit in the throat. There was confusion among the bandits. Some went to help their wounded leader, others advanced on Simon, and some advanced on the group. It was time for Simon to give them something else to worry about. He summoned magical energy from his heart, it flowed up into his hands, and then set a bright red sphere of energy high into the air. Alden would be there soon. In the meantime, Simon reloaded and continued to fire with the captured bow.

Heatherington was horrified when an arrow tore through Traven's knee. His shock intensified when a fluorescent red sphere floated into the sky. That could only mean one thing. Gryphon Raiders.
He loped down the slope - refugee's forgotten - as more arrows shot through the air, taking his fellow bandits in chests, throats and one even went down with fletching sticking out of his left eye. The arrows were coming from numerous directions in the small wood, and Heatherington estimated that there were around half a dozen Raiders from the volume.
Traven was pulling himself upright, bellowing orders, the scars he had received from a mountain lion bright red with rage and pain. Heatherington skidded to a halt next to him.
"Sir!" He shouted, still adhering to the disciplines he was taught in the palace. "We have to get you out of here!"
Traven's head snapped round, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Leave my men to die? Are you soft in the head?"
"Look, sir!" Heatherington pointed at the glowing sphere, "They're already dead. Come on! Tobias' orders, sir."
Technically that was a lie, but Tobias would understand. He was grateful like that. Traven let Heatherington put his arm round his shoulder and help him limp up the slope that Heatherington had - only seconds before - hurtled down. Traven growled as his men died, one by one, and only seconds after they had collapsed under some scrub a monstrous shadow soared over a mountainous slope. It crashed down amongst the remaining bandits and began throwing them around like rag-dolls. Heatherington was aghast as his brothers were slaughtered, but he pulled Traven upright and began staggering away. He had to tell Tobias. Tobias would know what to do. He was resourceful like that.