Young Writers Society

Here is Chapter 1. Comments are apreciated, but I don't need you pointing out every little spelling and grammar mistake. Please concentrate on the other aspects, as I can always put it on word and find out for myself. It's a little long, but it is the longest of my chapters so far.

Chapter 1: Volunteers

In among the grassy plains stood Daragoth, a city of men. Though it looked very grand, due to its high stone walls, it was overshadowed by the beautiful mountain citadel to the north. It is there where the council of United Erband was kept, and on that council were dwarves, elves and humans. For over 200 years the three species had lived in harmony, vanquishing any enemy in their path.

The outside of Daragoth may have look imposing, but the inside was so for a very different reason. Gangs of men lived roamed the grotty and violence and pestilence were not in short supply. The taverns were rowdy places where customers would run riot. One such tavern-"The Orc & Troll" (Named because of the common alliance of orcs and trolls) was no exception.

It was a madhouse. The barman had to duck below the bar often enough, as beer glasses shattered above his head. Then, everthing went silent, as the doors swung open and two short creatures walked inside. They were dwarves. One had a mace and shield strapped to his back, the other a warhammer. They both looked the same, with plaited orange beards and bulky chainmail armour. They the bar and peered up at the bartender.

"We be wantin' to join the U.E. (United Erband) volunteers," said one.

"So tell us where to find the barracks," said the other.

"And pour us two mugs o' your finest ale," finished the first.

Four of the tavern's usual customers approached the dwarves. They had already drunk quite a lot-and they weren't happy drunks. "We don't like your kind in here,"explained one, with a slight slur on his voice.

"We don't like your kind in here," explained one with a slight slur on his voice.

"Well that be your problem," replied one of the dwarves. The men started for their hidden weapons. Both dwarves quickly drained their mug, then grabbed a man each, and nutted them in the groin. The two unfortunate men fell to the floor in pain. The next two men suffered slightly different fates. The first was kicked in the kneecap, then as he fell was picked up and thrown through a window. The next was punched in the stomach, then jumped on, and had his face come into contact with dwarvern helmet steel, before smashing into a table. The dwarves recomposed themselves, and looked back up at the bartender.

"Let's start again shall we," said one.

"We're Bogrod and Godrod Gilter.." said the other.

"Bogrod's the taller one," interupted Godrod.

"..and we want to know the barracks are," finished Bogrod.

The barman pointed the Dwarves on their way and they left tavern. The barman heard a scream from the man who had previously exited the tavern at high speed through the window. 'Bloody dwarves!' He thought. 'In my tavern!'

Outside it started to rain. It wasn't particularly strong, but it was persistant. It's constant pitter-pattering slowly eroding at the cracks in the paving stones and seeping into the holes in buildings. Like little estuaries, the rain joined up on the ground into streams flowing downhill. A hooded figure splashed through the puddles and stopped, looking at a flyer on the wall. The figure ripped it off the wall, and read it for a minute, pondering something. Then, making his mind up, he trudged off in a different direction, dropping the flyer to the floor.

On the same street slightly later, two men came running down. Panting for breath, they turned off into an alleyway, and hid behind some barrels. Moments later seven armed men came running past and continued down the street. When they were sure that the other men were gone, the two in hiding stepped out of the alleyway. In size they were very different, one being quite large and well built, the other being thin and shorter. There were similarities in their faces though, similar nose shapes etc; and they both had short brown hair.

"Damn that was a close one, Moth," said the shorter one.

"Um-mm," grunted the large Moth.

"It was worth it though," the short one continued. "For all those jewels. Let me see them then"

"Huh?" questioned Moth.

"Moth, you did remeber to grab the bag, which we put thousands of grocma's worth of jewels in, when we started to run away from the guards"

"Urr..Calith..you not say"

"Damn it Moth!" shouted an enraged Calith. "If I didn't swear to our mum at her deathbed that I would look after your sorry ass, I would leave you right now! I go to the trouble of breaking us into a mansion, and gathering up the expensive jewels. Then when the city guard were alerted, all you had to do is grab the bag!.....Hey, what's that? Give it to me!" Calith snatched the soggy flyer out of Moth's hand.

"What it say?" asked Moth.

"'Join the 21st U.E. army volunteers today! No questions asked! Bring your own weapons! Visit exotic locations and scout the southern reaches of Erband! Look for Liutenant Coscan at the Daragoth barracks if you want to join up' Hmm. No questions asked. Moth, I think we will join the U.E. volunteers, at least until the fuss has died down"

"Yeah," grunted Moth.

"Idiot!" Calith mumbled under his breath.

With that, the two brothers walked off in the same direction as the hooded figure before them.

The horse galloped through the dreary plains. It seemed to be heading from the west, while it was obviously heading towards the city-fort of Daragoth. On the horse were two elves, one male, one female. This wouldn't be too unusual in itself, but another detail about them would cause some interest. One was an elf of the wood while the other was an elf of stone (or dark elf as some people would say). To tell you why this is unusual, I'll have to explain something about Wood and Stone Elves. As the stories go, for thousands wood elves were the only elves. They lived in harmony with nature and drew upon its power to keep visitors out of their sacred forests. But around the time that men started to build cities out of stone, some of the elves got restless of living in the woods. They wanted to build evidence of their legacy, and show the rest of the world that they can also build great cities. So those elves left the protection of the wood and moved into the forest. These stories are mainly accepted as true by both sides, but neither can agree how the elves of stone got their striking purple skin.

The wood elves would say it is because some of their ancestors were the evil Ukarans-the hatred enemy of all elves, and creatures who's skin colour is pure black. The dark elves would say that it is because they have unleashed a piece of their soul, previously hindered by lack of progress. They say that their skin colour means they are complete and are "true" elves.

These differences led to a threat of war anda load of insults being flung between them, such as: "Treehuggers!", "Rockbashers!", "Incomplete beings!" and the less popular "Your momma is a Ukaran"

So you can see why this is such a strange picture. Their names were Drolliae and Alloiwair (being the male wood elf and female stone elf respectively) and the rain was still beating down, almost perpetually as they rode into the city. They stopped at a particular building and let themselves in.

"I'd like to join the U.E. voluteers please," said the young man nervously.

"You've come to the right place for that then soldier!" barked a bulky looking man in standard issue soldier armour (leather cuirass on top with chainmail underneath and a simple helmet). He was standing next to a similarily armourmed man who was less hardy looking and wore the chevron for liutenant ranking. "I am Sergeant Morgan, and this is Liutenant Coscan-we'll be your commanding officers! Liutenant"

"Thank you Sergeant. As Morgan said, we will be your commanding officers, so in the field, you answer to us. Now, we need your name"

"Er..Narren..Shidar," Stuttered the young man.

"Now, we also need to do a weapon inspection-just procedural you know...for the record...," started the Liutenant.

"So's we can know whether your corpse is worth robbin' or not," Morgan chided in.

"Thank you, Sergeant," said the Liutenant sarcastically. "Now show your weapons to the Sergeant, Narren and we can add you to the list"

Naren did so, which prompted Morgan to say: "Hmm..strong sword...looks like steel. What's this on the hilt?...Hmm...an eagle ey? So what's the emblem of Palamar doing on your sword boy"

"For your information, I am a cleric of Palamar, the almighty god of justice," he replied.

"Good for you lad. Can you do magic then"

"I have had some training in healing spells"

"Very handy. Hey you, Rigthorn!" he said to a man sitting down. "Add cleric boy to our list. Make yourself at home, Narren,"

With that Narren got himself a full look at his surroundings. Behind him was the entrance to the barracks. On either side of him were two doors, while just in front of him was a desk, with the signing sheet on, and behind which the Liutenant and Sergeant stood behind. Past them were five or six large table dotted around with badly made chairs around them. About nine men were spread about the room, doing exactly as the Sergeant said-'Making themselves at home'. Then Narren saw a tubby dwarf with a long silvery beard. He was wearing long green robes and held a staff which ended in the dwarvern rune of power. (The dwarven rune of power is a diamond shape inside another diamond.) These surprised Narren, because they implied the dwarf was a mage of some sort, and dwarves were well known for their distrust of anything magical. Narren went to sit opposite the dwarf. He opened his mouth to speak, but the dwarf interupted him. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking 'what is a dwarf doing as a mage?'. Well to answer your question, I'm not a mage, I'm a Runesmith. That basically means that I call upon the power of the ancient runes forged by the dwarf gods at the beginning of time. I'm one the only dwarves alive who can speak raw-dwarvish. I'm Goldar by the way"

"Er...Nice to meet you," replied Narren in awe. I've.. er..never heard of a runesmith before"

"There aren't many of us left really," said Goldar. "But enough about me, I'm sure you're dying to know about our other comrades. For example, you see that guy there, with the cloth wrapped around his head, and the baggy clothes? Well he's called Lahmed and I think he comes from one of the eastern islands of Hamderad. And that other guy with the two swords? I heard he killed an elf Lord in the great citadel, and fought his way out of it. And that guy"

He stopped abruptly, staring at the two newcomers to the barracks. "Well I be," muttered Goldar. "A wood elf and a stone elf"

"We're here to join th U.E. voulunteers," said Drolliae (the male wood elf). His voice was soft, but had an edge to it that showed he was in no way a pushover.

"Okay, we need your names, & Sergeant Morgan needs to inspect your weapons. I'm Liutenant Coscan," said Lt. Coscan, his words more to the point than before. It wasn't that he had a racial prejudice-he was just too aware about the fact that they were elves. Sometimes that can be worse than the prejudice itself.

"I am Drolliae, and this is my soul partner Alloiwair"

Then the two showed their weapons to Sergeant Morgan. Drolliae went first. "Very nice bow.." started Morgan. "...strong but flexible...elfwood I'm guessing...that's some good carving...Next!" Alloiwair then handed him her spear. "Well this one.....yup-it's a standard issue stone elf military spear," He handed her back her weapon, then the two elves sat down on their own, not making a sound. Narren looked at them for a while noting the fact that they both were slim and had long hair and beautiful features. In fact, the only main difference betwwen them was colour.

As the time passed by that night, many more came to join the U.E. volunteers. Most notable were the Dwarvern twins, the very opposite brothers Moth and Calith and the mysterious man with a massive sword going by the name of Traith.

Finally the Liutenant addressed the room. "Right men, each of you are responsible for your own rations and equipment. You are volunteers, so there is no allowance for you. In the morning we will leave for the south. For those of you who know the area we will go down through Adra wood and patrol there for a while before circling round the mountains to the west and reporting back to the U.E. army general atop the citadel. Any questions"

"I have one," said Calith, his nasaly voice making him seem to have a constant sneer. "What happened to the last group of volunteers"

With that questiom, all eyes turned to the Liutenant, and most who were previously paying little attention to him perked up, taking interest in what was about to be said.

"May I answer this one sir?" asked Sergeant Morgan.

"Go ahead, Morgan"

"They were in Adra wood when disaster struck. Katracks! And five of them took out third of their number before they even knew what was goin' on. Then the beasts started slashin' their way through another third. By that time only 1 of the original 4 wizards was left. Well he used a couple a big fireballs to take out two o' the katracks before he got killed. They managed to shoot down an' slash down another but the last one, he was a big'un. There were only three volunteers left by then, so they got runnin'. One guy was got right then before he got a step furthur. The other guy was downed soon after. An' I'll be damned if the last one wasn't about to get killed aswell, before"

"Wait a minute, what the hell is a katrack?" asked a man.

"Well, Fratern, it looks like a giant centipede which has hundreds of slashers instead of legs. It tunnels underground and then disguises its head as dead leaves on the surface. When you step on it......BOOM! It comes out of its hole mouth first, if you get my drift," replied Morgan. "So back to my story. That guy was practically dead, until"

"Excuse me sergeant," said Narren. "But you're that guy aren't you? You couldn't know that much about what happened if you weren't there"

"You're right of course Narren. You're not as stupid as you look ey? But anyway, there I was, about to be eaten by a big monster, when some guy jumps out behinf me into its path. The guy slashed it in the face with his two swords before it reared up, and came at him with its slashers. This guy just matched it move for move, blocking every single strike. Then he crossed his swords over and chopped it in two. I had to go back to the citadel then, and I was promoted to Sergeant and Lt. Coscan and I volunteered to start a new volunteer squad. And the man who saved me is sitting right there - and goes by the name 'Rand Galoth"

Morgan pointed at Rand, and nearly all the eyes in the room laid upon him. Rand didn't even seem to acknowledge the staring eyes, and sat there gazing at the wall in what seemed to be thought. Lt. Coscan broke the silence. "Well thank you for the story Sergeant, but I believe it is time for everyone to rest. We will be sharing our sleeping quarters with the city watch. Now Allowair, we have an extra room that you can sleep in, but there should be enough beds for everyone else"

As Coscan showed them where their quarters were, Calith motioned his brother and murmered to him. "Try to keep a low profile-we don't want the watch to recognise us," Moth nodded and tried to look inconspicuous as he walked into the room. I say tried, because his casual walk looked more like a drunken stagger. The two of them looked round. The room was full of about fifty double bunks, all carefully placed in rows and columns so as to make all accessible. Each bunk had two large chests for the storage of armour and weapons.

Just as they were getting ready to go to bed, a watchman looked up at Calith and a spark of recognition dawned on his face.

"Hey you!" he said, pointing at Calith.

"Wh..what,..m..me?" replied Calith nervously.

"Yeah you. Do I know you?" The watchman asked.

"I..er...wouldn't really..erm..know," stuttered Calith. "You're not familiar..erm..to me"

"Oh, okay"

That was a close shave, thought Calith. Good job all watchmen are idiots. He then clamboured onto the top bunk (since Moth was too hevy to go up there) and started to plan his next heist.

Drolliae awoke to the rocking of his bunk. As he opened his eyes, two Dwarves came into view. "Rise and shine, elf" said one.

"We'll all be headin' off soon," said the other.

As he sat up Drolliae said,"I do not agree with the method of awakening, but the effort was appreciated"

"You be welcome,"said the first.

Drolliae then got out of bed and started to adorn his long flowing cloak. "I'm sorry, but I was not able to hear your names," said Drolliae.

"My name be Bogrod"

"And mine is Godrod. What be yours"

"Well, Bogrod and Godrod, my name is Drolliae of the Nalthea. I have never been lucky enough to see adwarf before now"

"Well now you have, Drolliae of the Nalthea, and we could be talkin' to you for longer, but it be nearly marchin' time," said Godrod. Drolliae looked round to see that the Dwarf was right. The room was nearly empty except for the few volunteers who were late sleepers. He grabbed his bow and quiver and tied them to his back, then the three of them entered the main room of the barracks where most of the volunteers were situated. They were again scattered around the room, but this time many of them had bowls, which had a murky substance which was probably some type of gruel. Drolliae spotted Alloiwair and embraced her, them both retreating back into their wordless silence, an escape from the world they live in. The dwarves however, grabbed themselves a bowl each and sat down opposite Goldar and Narren, who were discussing the previous nights events. They stopped to acknowledge the dwarves, who in turn introduced themselves.

"What city are you two from?" asked Goldar.

"Gin-Dorgren," replied the two simultaneously.

"Ahh, the home of Dograd, King of Stone," said Goldar.

Before Narren could express his lack of knowledge on the subject on the subject, Goldar turned to him and started to explain.

"Hundreds of years ago there was a wise dwarf king named Dograd. His palce was in Gin-Dorgen and he ruled in peace for many years. But eventually the Ukurans got jealous of his riches and launched an attack on the city, totally unprovoked. Unfortunately, most of the dwarvern armies were in different more vunerable cities, so they were outnumbered. The Dwarves fought well and hard, but to no avail. The walls were overun and the fifty Ukuran remaining stormed towards the homes of the Dwarves who couldn't fight. Well our King Dograd stood in their way with five of his guard and clutched at his battlehammer, chanting the Bodrak-Zar (a war chant). They charged at the Ukuran and by Bozack they won - but at the cost of the King's life. His dying wish was to watch over his city. Then suddenly a great magic was tapped and Dograd was infused to stone in his battle stance. The hammer is still clenched in his hands, and his spirit and body now watch over Gin-Dorgen. No enemy has breached the walls again since"

"Wow," said Narren. "How do you know so much about these things"

"Well, this story's told to most Dwarves in their youth. He is one of our great Dwarf legends. But studying in the library of the great U.E. citadel has given me most of my knowledge. This is goin' to be a long journey though, so I could share some of that knowledge"

"I'd love to know as much as you do," replied Narren.

Just then, the Sergeant banged on the front table repeatedly, getting everyone's attention. By that time they had all finished eating anyway.

"All yours, Lt.," said Morgan.

"Okay people, I want you to buy your supplies and whatever you need and meet the Sergeant and I in one hour or less at the south gate. That's all, thank you"

With that, the Liutenant and Sergeant left the building, leaving the volunteers to their own means.

The boy darted in and out of the crowds, occasionly picking pockets on the way. Most of the people round Daragoth didn't have much money on them, and the boy knew he would struggle to afford another payment. He was a street urchin called Galdin. Abandoned while young, the 'Street Rats' gang took him in and taught him to pick pockets and steal. All they asked for was a payment every week, and he would get protection from other gangs (and the Street Rats). He was only about ten years old.

Then he spotted it - a bizarrely dressed foreigner with a heavy purse. The man wore baggy white clothes, and had on him many weapons.

The boy reached out for the purse. Then - smack! The foreigner span and kicked the boy to the ground. He drew a large curved sword and bore down on the boy. Galdin closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable end. It didn't come. He cautiosly opened one eye, to see a man in silver plate mail armour blocking the would-be lethal blow. His sword was sleek and thin, and sparkled in the sun.

"What are you doing!" spat the foreigner.

"Stopping you from murdering an innocent boy," replied the saviour.

"He tried to steal from me , Rand Galoth"

"In this country petty theft is not a crime punishable by death, Lahmed," replied Rand.

"Do what you will with the rat! You will regret this!" finished Lahmed.

He then stormed off towards the gates. Rand sheathed his and helped the stunned boy up.

"Here's the deal kid," he started. "You've been given a second chance, so use it wisely. Here is enough money to pay for an education and food for a while. My name is Rand Galoth, and I should like to know yours before I have to go"

"G..Galdin"

"Okay Galdin. Heed my words wisely. Goodbye"

With that the mysterious man walked off, leaving Galdin with a purse full of money. Galdin decided to do what the man said. He did save his life.

By now all of the volunteers had assembled at the massive south gate. The doors were kept open during the day, since there hasn't been much trouble with the orc tribes in that area for years. Every one of the volunteers had some kind of pack with supplies such as food rations etc.

The Liutenant, who was mounted on a brown horse, adressed his company. "Alright men, today we move on! But before we do so, I want to make some things clear. I need at least four of you to scout around the rest of us, so we can prepare for what comes ahead. Usually only one or two will be scouting at one time. Now in case of battle (and there is a large change we will get into a couple of skirmishes) you answer to me and the sergeant. Someone is bound to get hurt along this journey, and we need one of you to be our unofficial medic"

"If I may sir, I nominate our Cleric boy to be medic," suggested the Sergeant.

"Well, Narren, are you up to it?" asked Coscan "Well i'm no healer, but I did have some training"

"That settles it then," interrupted the Sergeant. "So who wants to be a scout"

A few people volunteered, including the wood elf Drolliae and the twin sworded Rand.

"Now we have that sorted out, we will go southwards towards the Adra wood," finished the Liutenant.

And with that, their journey began.

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