Hammer clinks echo across the courtyard. Sweat flicks against the back of my arm. The thought, My son will never amount to anything, makes its daily intrusion as the boy walks up here. Worrying his mother sick. I cry out, "Boy, get over here!" He turns slowly and stares into my eyes. His wide blue eyes stare up into mine. For a moment I am uneasy. What gives you such confidence?, I bite behind my teeth. If I am too harsh, he'll deny his parents' command. What all children are like.
He's coming now, with his casual pace and thoughtless gander. Soldiers pace alongside the wall behind him. It's almost sundown. Why is he out this late?
He steps up in front of me, slackjawed, and says, ""What's it, pa?""
I hit my hammer one last time against the metal piece. It is set aside and I crouch down to stare at him. He meets my gaze then falters, eyes twitching to lower. Good, he'll be okay. Still listens to orders.
"We're gonna go home, yeah?" I say and clap him on the shoulder. He beams up at me. I'm spoiling him. I think, and glance at the soldiers in the near watchtower. They seem uneasy. One fits an arrow onto the string and fires past the wall. The other calls out to his comrades in the courtyard. They begin mobilizing. I push my son back into the enclosed cabin of the smithy. A torch soars down from the other side of the wall, and one of the archers is blasted off. His body thwacks the side of a building. The people inside come out to see what's happening.
I turn back to the cabin, grabbing my hammer and push my way through the door. My son has hidden next to the single bed. I drag him to the cellar and hasten him down the stairs.
"Stay here," I whisper, "There's food in that crate. Take these," as I thrust armaments at him, too young to have to deal with this. Five years old. I rush back up the stairs and poke my head through the door.
More and more people are shouting. There is sounds of fighting at the gate, while a knight rides to the scene of the fight. A spear in hand and bow set on my back now, I dare to leave the front into the street. A cloud of dust ahead from the mass of villagers fleeing has them clogged up between the houses. A man wearing leather armors rides in on a horse, and stabs one of the villagers in the back with his spear. He is quickly shot by one of the town's guards.
"RAID!" a shrill voice screams from the mob. It sends shivers down my arms and legs. There was no way to get home from here with the crowd blocking. I can only hope the others are alright. Looking all around I make my way back to the forge and re-enter. I bar the door and set up blockades to the windows. I grab what supplies I need and return back into the basement. It's crowded now, and dark. My son sits in a corner, staring silently in the middle of the room. Once adjusted to the light, I can see his face is tear-stricken. We huddle close, and wait.
Tales from Norland
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Anime Sword Fighter
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Re: Tales from Norland
Scouts report of widespread attacks on the western settlements. They never cease, but there was something unrelenting about these in particular. Whatever the cause, it has the whole Guard on edge. The Lord's soldiers are already weary from fending off the giants. How much longer can we hold off until reinforcements from the south post arrive?
The farms are bountiful at the least. Even the barracks has extra rations to divvy. Right now the bowen are doing their drills at the range. Ranged weaponry is our best defense against the damned giants. They like to rip out huge chunks of dirt and cast it over the wall, when they can't get their hands on rocks or trees. It's hard fighting them off when they can move earth and smash stone against you.
Last week my wife sent a missive:
"The children are well. We eagerly await your return. Father has sent word that his trade goes well. They are collaborating with merchants from Amn, across the sea, to the continent. By this time next year, we can afford to purchase that acreage for the goats. I send you our love."
I keep the note next to me at night. The other guards made fun of me at first, but when Grefield was ripped apart they lost their humor. I'll be able to leave this garrison soon though. Once those reinforcements arrive.
The farms are bountiful at the least. Even the barracks has extra rations to divvy. Right now the bowen are doing their drills at the range. Ranged weaponry is our best defense against the damned giants. They like to rip out huge chunks of dirt and cast it over the wall, when they can't get their hands on rocks or trees. It's hard fighting them off when they can move earth and smash stone against you.
Last week my wife sent a missive:
"The children are well. We eagerly await your return. Father has sent word that his trade goes well. They are collaborating with merchants from Amn, across the sea, to the continent. By this time next year, we can afford to purchase that acreage for the goats. I send you our love."
I keep the note next to me at night. The other guards made fun of me at first, but when Grefield was ripped apart they lost their humor. I'll be able to leave this garrison soon though. Once those reinforcements arrive.