Would you mind making some comments please?[/color]
Chapter I:
Full Moon
It smelt as if death itself was lingering near Reman as he sat in the cold with his legs drawn tightly towards his chest. He closed his eyes hoping it could shield himself from the gritty cell he found himself in.
He thought as if his doom was coming the next day, for a crime he could not have committed. He stared up at the full moon which was hanging in the sky outside a small window at the top of his cell. Asteroids were glowing around it like children resting by their mother’s chest.
He could hear the guard at the end of the hall whistling; it was an old Dragon’s Bane folk tune. It was something his mother used to sing to him as a child.
Reman could hardly remember his parents; he was quite young when he was taken from them. He was supposed to have his first day at school the next day, but instead it was scheduled for his execution.
Reman’s fair brown hair was unruly and dirty; it covered his eyes in another attempt at sanctuary. He was a sickly young boy, always suffering from one kind of illness or another. It all came with living in prison.
Reman gave out a ragged cough, the first in one almost a week which didn’t cause a sickly coughing fit. Relief washed through his face as he gave a silent prayer to Ardlan.
‘By St. Alorn’s cross boy, I’m surprised you aren’t dead yet.’ said the guard walking up to Reman’s cell.
The Guard shoved a dented plate under the cell door. Reman had to leap over to stop the rats from getting at it. Reman slept and lived with all kinds of vermin.
These vermin would be the vessel for all kinds of illnesses which Reman caught seemingly every single time. For some reason these diseases were never a real problem for Reman. He had a habit miraculously recovering from these ailments, much to the amazement of the guards.
Little did Reman know that beyond his dark prison walls in a small shack six individuals conspired about the escape of Reman, their green capes dragged along the floor.
The room was moist and crowded with storing boxes. It was built with stone and had a roof made of hay strewn across planks of wood which were laid across the tops of the walls.
They stood around an old wood table resting their hands on the splintered wood; but their gloves protected them from the old rotting timber. The room was entirely dark apart from a candle which illuminated the faces of the bandits. They tried not to gain any attention.
They discussed heavily about their plan but they knew they didn’t have long to decide what they were going to do. But the time for deliberating was over.
‘It’s time.’ said one of the hooded bandits.
The caped gang exited the shack from the back entrance to avoid suspicion. They moved almost silently through the dense undergrowth of the gardens near the prison, trying not to trip on the roots and vine.
They continued through the gardens. The fear in their hearts was swelling, but was balanced out by the overwhelming feeling of the justice that they were bringing upon the city.
They found themselves moving closer to the centre of Imperam, the capital of Midgard. It was known as the white city, protected by mountains from every angle. It was the secret city and hadn’t fallen to darkness once, at least not from the outside. But from the inside evil had already taken its hold, in the form of an organisation by the name of the Elder Council. The Elder Council had been formed after the fall of Darius, the empire’s first and only beloved Emperor.
The gang of bandits had almost reached the open fields where on top of the dale was the white towers of the prison. The prison’s walls were circular and had four watchtowers which protruded out from the centre. Flames were burning on top of them like inland light-houses. The guards were deployed all over the prison walls and were heavily armed and armoured, not to mention they were very disciplined.
The bandits had reached their greatest obstacle, the thoughts of seeing their families, friends, children or wives had almost completely faded from their hearts as they realised what danger they had put themselves in. They realised that they had no chance at taking down all the guards, they weren’t armoured and were only armed with bows and a quiver of arrows, which wasn’t nearly full.
There were only six of them and there were at least six times that many guards.
Reman still sat in his cell, he noticed something move into the path of the moon’s light which was moving through the small window which was carved from the rock. He looked out the window and saw the bandits; he wondered what they could be doing. But suddenly he saw arrows fly from the dense gardens. He could hear the metal clash against the rock before the first victim of the guard fell down blocking Reman’s window.
Reman almost collapsed in fear to the back of his cell, his heart was pounding and tears of absolute fear ran down his face.
The bandits tried their best to climb the rocky walls of the dale. One was shot by an archer from one of the watchtowers; the archers attacked back trying to eliminate the threat.
Then they realised they couldn’t just stay there. There were four of them in the gardens shooting down as many as they could while there was one other trying to climb up after his friend had been killed. One of the archers came up with a plan; he ran towards one of the Watch-Towers and readied an arrow aiming for a shot at the guard posted at the top. But the arrow strayed away from his target and alarmed the guard of what was happening.
‘Hey over there!’ yelled the guard.
The bandit had been revealed to the guards; he then put away his bow and drew his knife the moon light shone upon the blade. The two guards who guarded the door were running at the bandit, halberds at the ready.
The bandit ran down low trying not to be hit by one of the arrows pouring down upon him, as the guards reached him he thrust the dagger into the unarmoured neck of one of them. He used his body as a shield against the arrows until the other guard tried to attack him.
The halberd cut the side of the bandit’s torso as he tried to dodge, the cape was getting in the way and he immediately abandoned it so he could move more freely. Instead of fighting the guard, the bandit took advantage of his armour and ran for the door. He ran through the door slamming it behind him, it was heavy and closed with a loud thud.
The bandit began to run up the stairs followed by the already exhausted guard.
‘Hey down here!’ yelled the guard towards the top of the stairs, alerting the guard at the top.
The other guard peered down only to be met by the bandit who was closer than expected. The commotion had caused many of the guards to leave their posts. A fight broke out on top of the tower as the bandit fought against the other two guards. As he was grabbed in a choke hold by one of the guards the other moved his halberd closer towards the bandit’s chest, the bandit pushed the halberd out of the way and kicked the guard into the fire but the struggle continued and they tumbled from the top of the tower. And that was it, another one had died.
The guards had moved away from their posts and their attention was fixed upon the commotion from the watchtower. This helped the rest of the bandits get an opening to be able to climb the side of the dale, and get closer to Reman’s cell.
The four remaining bandits reached the top of the Dale and were faced with a worse obstacle. The white walls of the prison stood in front of the bandits as they peered up to the top of the mighty wall.
The four of them scaled the wall and entered the prison’s interior. Inside Reman still sat in the dark fearing the sound of all the commotion from outside.
The bandits were suddenly greeted by a guard he didn’t draw his sword or do anything hostile for that matter; in fact he let them come. He guided them towards Reman’s cell.
Reman could hear the door open, he thought to himself “Oh dear, this is the end” or something along those lines, he was still young and found it hard to put what he was thinking into words, or was too scared to say them anyway.
The guard at the end of the hall had ceased to whistle some time ago and began to get a bit nervy. The door opened and the bandits moved towards Reman’s cell, the guard drew his sword and moved at haste towards the bandits but all Reman saw was the guard disappearing and then reappearing as a corpse with a dagger through his heart.
Reman was incredibly frightened and was cowering at the back of his cell. The guard opened the cell door and the bandits walked in. The man at the front revealed his face from the hood water dripped on top of his head from the leaks in the roof; he held his hand out in front of himself.
‘Come Reman, You’re free now.’ said the man in the front.
‘Come on, quickly, we haven’t much time.’ continued another.
Reman grabbed hold of the bandits hand and continued out of the prison. The warning bells sounded and the guards started to pour back into the prison. The bandits exited the prison trying their hardest to get down the Dale without wounding themselves.
As they ran through the fields towards the dense untamed gardens one of the bandits screamed in pain, an arrow had shot through his back, he fell on his knees as he coughed up blood. Another one of the bandits covered Reman’s eyes and turned him away. They continued to run through the gardens trying to escape the grasp of the guard.
‘Hey over there!’ yelled a voice from behind them, the voice was accompanied by the sound of hungry dogs barking into the night.
They could hear the dogs coming closer as they began hunt for the bandits.
‘Go run!’ said one of the bandits as he stopped running and turned around to see the dogs. ‘Mother forgive me.’ he whispered silently as the dogs ran at him.
The last of the caped bandits ran with Reman holding tightly to his hand. Reman then tripped on a large root, the bandit picked Reman up and held him in his arms and he ran out of the gardens and into the slums.
As the warning bells tolled Reman and the bandit tried to get out of the city.
‘Hey!’ yelled the bandit waving his hand towards a carriage.
The carriage stopped in front of them and picked them up. They had already organised for the carriage driver to pick them up.
‘So few of you left. This is worse than I expected.’ said the Driver.
‘Just take us to the destination, the boy shouldn’t be worried any more now.’ said the bandit holding Reman in his arms.
‘Understood.’ said the Driver.
The night was dark and the driver took an old unused road out of the city. It was rough and uncomfortable, but not many roads were.
Through the night they made their way to Oaksville. More and more the bandit could see the confusion in Reman’s eyes, could he remember what had happened only hours earlier? It didn’t seem so, if he couldn’t it was probably for the better although the trauma left behind would be terrible.
The bandit didn’t in any way want to upset Reman and possibly awaken unwanted memories in a currently unstable mind. Instead he simply said this:
‘My name is Berethor, how are you feeling?’ said the bandit.
Reman did not answer, Berethor couldn’t be sure why this was happening but he sure wasn’t going to bombard the boy with useless questions.
It began to rain and the pitter-patter on the carriage window reminded Berethor of a simpler time, when he went on a holiday with his brothers. As they continued into the forest they were welcomed by a darkness unfamiliar to Berethor, he hadn’t seen the forest at night. Eventually his energy had reached its limits and he fell asleep.
He dreamt of a brighter time, well it seemed that way. It was the last of Berethor’s travels to the Oaksville forest with his two brothers.
‘Alright I’m out.’ said Davide, Berethor’s brother, as he realised his pipe had run out of Amerothian leaves.
‘Sorry, there’s none left.’ replied Reull with a smile on his face.
‘Shut up you liar.’ said Davide as he leapt up from the ground ready to chase Reull whose pockets were bulging from the leaves.
Berethor just sat there on the hill, with the sun on his face laughing with a pipe in his mouth. Blowing smoke rings and watching his brothers fight over the leaves.
He realised it had been quite a while since he had some Amerothian leaves, they had become quite prized since the relationship with Ameroth started to decay.
Back then when Berethor was a young man he enjoyed the summer holidays away from his coastal home of Harath. His brothers were both older than him. The memory of that summer was held closely to Berethor’s heart.
His brothers were both far away; so far in fact Berethor didn’t have a chance at seeing them. One of his brothers, Davide, died in battle against the four armies of Grendilheim. The other Reull went away on an expedition to Outremer (The island continent) and was never seen again.
Berethor’s family had a habit of doing brave (or stupid) things that would take them away from their family. All things considered it took Berethor quite sometime to take the plunge. In his heart he felt perfectly sure that he would be reunited with his family soon.
He was awoken by the gentle rays of light coming through the tree-tops, morning was among them. They were nearing Oaksville, Reman was asleep. Not surprising really seeing as he has only ever slept in a prison really, so anything other than rocky ground was comfortable.
It had snowed the previous night, it was quite high. Winter had definitely made its mark. As they rolled into Oaksville they were welcomed by an empty town, everyone was inside away from the cold. As they stepped out Reman began to shake heavily, the winters had never been easy for him. Berethor instantly noticed this and took off his cape and wrapped it around Reman.
Then they reached a small house on the corner of the main road, near the great oak tree. Its lamp was still glowing well into the day, despite the cold winds and snow. Berethor opened the gate and led Reman in.
Berethor knocked on the door with a firm “Knock, Knock, Knock”, nothing to fancy, he was hardly in the mood. Someone came rushing to the door, it was a lady. She was young and beautiful, and a kind smile adorned her face as she knelt down and held her arms open towards Reman.
‘We’ve been expecting you, my dear boy.’ she said with the softest of voices. “Come in.” she continued.
Reman turned and looked up at Berethor with a confused look on his face.
‘Come on now, let’s go in.’ said Berethor as he led the way inside.
They walked in and were welcomed by a house with polished stone floors and walls of richly coloured timber. They continued through to the dining room where they all sat down at the table. The lady was kind enough to poor a drink of hot chocolate for Reman who was recovering from the cold. He had never been near a hot chocolate before, not even a flavoured drink.
But there was much to discuss.
‘You have no idea how much this means to us, well me now and the boy.’ began Berethor.
‘Anything for our young Prince.’ said the woman. This was one of the first things Reman remembers, he thinks it was probably just a kind name given to him.
And so the conversation began, Reman thought that it seemed to drag on for hours. Not surprising seeing as Berethor and the lady had much to discuss.
But the time came for Berethor to leave. As they farewelled him from the door he said this.
‘Goodbye Reman. I hope we can meet again one day.’ he said as he kissed his hand and then placed it on Reman’s forehead.
He then turned away and left Reman in the arms of the kind lady. The lady then shut the door and Reman began his new life.
Berethor continued back down the road. He felt as if he was being watched. No matter he continued down the path until he reached the city centre. He then went into the inn for a pint of Ale.
‘Greetings lad.’ said the Innkeeper. ‘I’m sorry, not long until we closing up for the night. You can still get yaself a room if you wish.’ continued the Innkeeper who was cleaning a glass behind the counter.
‘Oh, yes I will thank-you.’ Said Berethor stumbling into the Inn.
Berethor put the coins on the counter and drank down the last pint of the night. The cold brew was gold to Berethor who hadn’t known such refreshment in quite a while.
As he sat at the counter looking into the empty pint, he thought of his fallen comrades. Those who had helped him get Reman away from certain death had fallen, their bodies littered the land surrounding the prison.
He tried not to think of it. It was no easy task.
He had finished his ale, and more importantly his mission. He stumbled up the stairs until he reached his room, he entered and laid down on the bed. As he fell asleep he thought of his wife back home, looking forward to the time when he would return home.
That night his dreams were melancholy and filled with an undesirable darkness. It was nothing about what was – well, don’t let me spoil it.
As he awoke from his slumber, Berethor was greeted by the winter sun.
‘Kind of you to greet me like this Helios’ he said (Helios was the name given to the sun, knowing its name shows that Berethor was from a rich family and went to school).
He quickly got out of his bed and went downstairs. He was greeted by the innkeeper before he had to go.
He went outside into the cold snow which had buried the paths. The town was almost as deserted as how he and Reman had found it the day before. He wondered how Reman was in his new home, he deeply considered visiting, but he knew he couldn’t.
He quickly met up with the carriage driver who had taken him and Reman to Oaksville. He organised a track through the forest and set off as soon as he could.
After days the carriage had reached its destination; Cina, port city of Valehorn.
It was another inn, on the coast of Deepwater Lake. It was a massive lake which acted as a trade port for the inner kingdoms of Promethia (the main continent of Elysia).
Its rocky coast was scared with the remnants of shipwrecks and past storms. The buildings of Cina commonly had the first level made of stone and the second or more formed from a Tudor style.
Berethor was getting ready to sail across Deepwater Lake, hoping to get to see his family.
He was surprised, and thankful, that the guard were so stupid that the word of the hooded men who aided them in escaping Reman hadn’t even passed from Darius to Valehorn.
He went into the inn for the night, but that night he was greeted by something he didn’t want to find waiting for him.
He opened the door to his room and placed belongings on the bedside table.
‘Well, well, well, hello Berethor. You didn’t think you could get away did you? What a pity it had to end this way.’ said a voice from behind him.
Filled with terror Berethor turned behind him. He saw a man shrouded in black robes. A mask hid his face from him.
‘No, please don’t, you don’t understand.’ said Berethor attempting to take the last chance he had.
The man in black robes drew a blade from under his robes. Then what followed was only screams.
Berethor was dead. His body was found the next morning washed up on the shore, he had been thrown out the window of his room.
The story was very intruiging, you definitely have something to work with here.
