by Artal » Thu Jul 01, 2021 10:20 pm
Ely edit 30 Jul 2021:
1-6 qps, depending on length and quality.
Potential +1 qp: if part of a series: x
Total: 11 qps
*****************************************
Running as fast as his feet would will him, he ran along the stream his spear in hand. Spinning it about and grunting out a fierce battle cry he charged forward, directly toward his foe! The other boy ran toward him doing much the same, and they collided beneath the old oak tree with a loud crack of the weapons meeting. He darted around the smaller boy as the other boy brought his weapon down in a straight arch, trying to split him in half. Turning and regaining his footing he thrusted his spear forward, only to be parried aside easily. Pushing forward he drew it back and brought around in a wide slash. The foe ducked beneath and came forward with a thrust of his own, which he darted to the right and nearly stepped into the rushing waters. Both danced back and forth a few more times before he broke off and moved away slightly. Bringing his spear up and gripping it with both hands. Squinting his eyes and casting his gaze at his now still opponent they both circled one another. Wind blew, and his hair fluttered back, sweat beading down his forehead from the efforts. Stillness once more, as both stood opposite one another. Time stopped, and he waited. Watched. Birds broke forth from the trees, as if to signal it. And both dashed forward once more, battle cries ringing through the wood sending birds from the canopy. Crossing the ground they both let loose their battle cries and they clashed. The crack of the spears meeting echoed off through the wood, before he spun and saw the sky above, his footing had failed him. Landing with a grunt he tried to roll but met the ground too hard. Beside him he heard a similar grunt and cast his eyes over at his friend, who was now face first into the stream. Laughter burst from him before he could even stand to try and see if he was alright. Standing, he cast his cracked stick aside, and moved quickly toward the stream where Izaak was now pushing himself up and angrily making noises as he rose.
"Hah, I am sorry but that is funny. Are you alright though?" Artal asked as he neared the other boy, stifling the laughter long enough to put on a serious face. The angry face that turned toward him softened in just moments, before a smile broke from ear to ear. Wavy short length hair fell to ears, brown eyes staring up at him from the slightly rounded childlike face.
"Good enough, but did ya have ta trip me?" Sarcasm oozed off the other boy's words, which made him laugh again. Extending an arm he help hoist the smaller boy up. "Thanks, I heard you grunt, did I getcha?" Now said as he was looking about trying to relocate his own stick. It lay a few feet away, lost in the tangle perhaps.
"No, I think we managed to get tangled up and both hit the ground harder than we could each other." Smiling as he stated it, the other scoffed slightly and bound forward to reclaim his fallen 'Spear.'
"Is okay, next time I'll definitely getcha." Determination filled his friends voice, and he did not think he wouldn't but he laughed despite it. Moving back to claim his own that he dropped. It was a long sad looking thing now, cracked and broken at a bad angle near the top. Would need to find a new one, he thought as he turned back toward his friend.
"Maybe, or maybe I will get you!" Exclaimed with a smile as he pulled it back up and twirled it about, before the broken end flew off into the brush with a sad whistle as it flew off. The brown haired boy just laughed at the display.
"Not with that you won't. We will have to find a new one for you." And he bound off before a response could be given. Off into the brush toward the path back to the farm. With a sigh he ran forward, over the grass and through the brush beside the trees at the edge of the path. It would lead to Coron Ford, off in the north away from the farms. His family grew all sort of vegetables and raised pigs, and Izaak's family lived on a farm near theirs. South curving through the path he moved, the other boy barely in sight. But standing still. As he drew close he could see a look on the other's face, worry?
"Hey, why you standing still. Thought we were getting me another spear." Half yelled as he drew in close, only to see what his friend was gazing at. The house was on fire. Through the tree line and in the distance, past the pens smoke billowed off his house, flames dancing in the wind enveloping everything. Screams filled the air. And he saw his mother, a knife in hand running around the house. They both moved at once, sticks in hand. Off through the tree line and near the pens. They would need to be fast. Whatever was chasing mother would not wait long.
"Artal NO!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, stopping him in his tracks. Looking forward he saw her again, blood streaked her face. She had blood all down her dress and around the house several men were walking slowly. Stalking her as she moved. Limped. "Turn, run now!" She screamed again. Izaak was just before him then. And he went to grab his shoulder, but the other boy darted forward. "Izaak no! Run Izaak!" But there was no stopping him. And he could not move. He was frozen in place. Several more men were coming from the other side of the building. Filthy, angry looking men despite the smiles on their faces. Mother had no where to run. Where was father?
"Run ma!" He yelled, and all eyes looked to him now. "Please!" He screamed out, tears beginning to flow down his cheeks. Izaak was now nearly upon the first group, stick twirling as the men laughed and moved apart from one another just a bit. He spun and darted toward the first, and was met with a backhand which slung him down toward the ground in a heap.
"NO!" He heard his mother scream, and knife up she lunged forward back toward her pursuers. Shock filled him. Tears continued to flow, and a horrible groan left his body he did not know he was able to make. The metal protruded from her back, slick with red as she slumped down against the filthy man. Who laughed and slung her off his twisted blade onto the ground.
He wanted to scream, wanted to run forward. Wanted to bring his spear up high and fight them off. But she was already on the ground, and Izaak was already down as well. And his spear was broken. The crunch of leaves, and he turned just in time to see the unwashed face of one of the men not even five feet from him. Sword up and moving right at him now. 'Move!' He willed his feet. 'Please go!' He urged himself. And right as the man was upon him they responded. Spinning the stick up with a scream it caught the brute in the face with a loud crack, snapping once more. And he fled, tears trailing him as he ran. As fast as he could he ran. Not north, and not south. He was afraid they would find him. He ran east, into the woods. Toward the old oak he ran, but he did not stop. Through the stream he bounded, and off to the other side up and into the tree line. Shouts ringing out behind him of 'Catch him' and 'Do not let him get away!' But he did not stop. Over rock and past brush he ran. His lungs hurt as he moved, but he dared not stop. Tears flowing all the while, and making it so hard to breath. His vision blurry with them.
Hours seemed to pass, and finally he collapsed. Beneath a tall tree and surround by brush he fell, and curled his knees up against his chest and wailed. "Mother." Broke free from him, despite his best efforts to keep from calling out anything. Fearful they still crept the woods after him. Slung aside like rubbish. And Izaak. He left Izaak. More wails broke free. His breathing raged out of control, and he could hardly suck in air. Between the sobbing and trying to get a grasp on what he saw he stared up at the darkening sky through blurred vision. Sucking in air he shut his eyes, and tried to forget what he saw. It was just a nightmare, it would end. He just needed to wake up. Please let it be over when he woke up. Curled up beneath the tree he calmed himself, caught his breath, and kept his eyes pinched shut. Fearful of what would be there when he opened them once more.
Eyes opened, and were met with dim moonlight filtering in through the canopy, and a soft crackling sound coming from nearby. Pulling his hand up to rub at his eyes he felt something slip off from atop him. And gripped at a rugged cloth. A woolen blanket, but not his. Sitting up directly in front of the tree he looked around and caught eyes with a man. Watching him from a fire, crackling nearby a he sat, watching him curiously. Eyes locked on him, green of color and gleaming in the light of the fire the man wore a simple cloak and simple clothing, with a horn fastened to hip on his belt. Quickly shifting he went to stand.
"Easy now, easy lad. You been out for hours." The man spoke quickly, arms up palms showing. His voice was soft, but he could be one of them.
"Are you with them?" He spat out angrily. Standing up and looking for a direction to run. The man was in the path he had been running. He would need to cut north, or south to get away.
"I don't know who them is boy, but I assure you I am with no one." Said as the man sat back and eased himself to rest against his hands now placed behind him into the crushed grass. Fire flickered and danced in front of him, and something smelled good.
"The bad men, they." Broke off, and the weight of everything came back to him. Tears began again without being able to stop, and he crumpled back down onto the ground. "Mother." Broke free between horrible groans that came out of him. He wanted to stop, he wanted to be stronger.
"Now lad, shh." The man said as he rose. Moving around the fire he was large. Bigger than father. As he inched back away from the man as his hands extended down toward him the man froze, only for a moment. Before gripping the blanket and tugging it back up on him. He did not move, dared not. "It is ok, whoever these bad men are they were not following you. They might have been at one point but you lost em. You went flying by me half a day ago, so I followed your tracks." The man said as he moved back away and went toward the source of the smell. A rabbit spitted on a stick resting at an angle at the far side of the fire. Tears welled, but slowed.
"How do I know? That your not one of em." Shot forth defiantly he watched, as the man eased himself down again casting those green eyes back toward him.
"Lad, if I was one of these 'bad men' would I follow you, find you and cover you while making a fire? Catching a rabbit so you've something to eat and watching over you while you rested?" Stated matter of fact, it made sense. But maybe it was a trick?
"I dunno. Never seen them before, and now everyone's gone. Never seen you either." Again, shot forth with a little edge to his words. Which drew a deep sigh from the man. Which lasted only a few moments before he grew silent again. Artal shifted beneath the blanket, pressed up against the tree.
"Lad, im sorry. I don't know who they are or why they did what they did. My name is Tenil, and I am a hunter of the horn. We travel the land trying to find the fabled Horn of Valere. Came over from Baerlon, was heading off toward Bandar Eban, you came flying by in the woods, heard you wailing as you went so I followed. Not much else I can say to make you believe me. But if I was one of em. I wouldn't put all the effort into looking over you, nor would I get a meal going so you have something to eat." Arms crossed the broad chest of the man now as he watched.
Artal watched the man as he sat there. Doing nothing. It made sense, he didn't harm him. He covered him and started a fire and had food cooking. Which must have triggered something as the man sat forward and pulled at the stick with the skewered hare. Pinching at it and pulling at it he gave a noise of approval before tearing a chunk off and tossing it onto his pack which rested beside him. The crackling of the flames the only noise for the next several minutes as the man sat there eyeing him.
"Well? You hungry or what?" Does he trust this man? Bobbing his head up and down he stood slowly and moved forward, clutching at the blanket. Moving to the opposite side of the fire but not too close the man passed him the stick with the majority of the hare. "No complaints, I ate earlier and you need it with all the running you did. Eat up." And without awaiting an answer as he took it from him and sat beside the man the large body disappeared partially into the deepening shadows around the tree he rested upon and the sound of eating flowed from them.
"Thank you." Finally uttered, forth. Before he blew on the food several times. Biting into it the grease broke free and ran his chin, but he did not care. Ravenously he tore into it, tearing everything off. The crackle of the flames, and the crickets chirping around him the only noise as he made short work of the meal. Soon enough it was all gone and he cast the stick into the fire. Pulling the sleeve of his shirt he wiped at his face, trying to clean away all the filth.
"Now don't go messing up your shirt worse than it is already lad. Worry about the grime when we wake up. We get moving early. So you will need to rest up again. First though, tell me everything. Tell me what happened and what these men looked like." The shadow crept back up into the light of the fire, and Artal couldn't stop himself. Soon enough, he was telling Tenil everything. It all spilled out, and the tears flowed once more while he did. He would need to become stronger.
Ely edit 30 Jul 2021:
1-6 qps, depending on length and quality.
Potential +1 qp: if part of a series: x
Total: 11 qps
*****************************************
Running as fast as his feet would will him, he ran along the stream his spear in hand. Spinning it about and grunting out a fierce battle cry he charged forward, directly toward his foe! The other boy ran toward him doing much the same, and they collided beneath the old oak tree with a loud crack of the weapons meeting. He darted around the smaller boy as the other boy brought his weapon down in a straight arch, trying to split him in half. Turning and regaining his footing he thrusted his spear forward, only to be parried aside easily. Pushing forward he drew it back and brought around in a wide slash. The foe ducked beneath and came forward with a thrust of his own, which he darted to the right and nearly stepped into the rushing waters. Both danced back and forth a few more times before he broke off and moved away slightly. Bringing his spear up and gripping it with both hands. Squinting his eyes and casting his gaze at his now still opponent they both circled one another. Wind blew, and his hair fluttered back, sweat beading down his forehead from the efforts. Stillness once more, as both stood opposite one another. Time stopped, and he waited. Watched. Birds broke forth from the trees, as if to signal it. And both dashed forward once more, battle cries ringing through the wood sending birds from the canopy. Crossing the ground they both let loose their battle cries and they clashed. The crack of the spears meeting echoed off through the wood, before he spun and saw the sky above, his footing had failed him. Landing with a grunt he tried to roll but met the ground too hard. Beside him he heard a similar grunt and cast his eyes over at his friend, who was now face first into the stream. Laughter burst from him before he could even stand to try and see if he was alright. Standing, he cast his cracked stick aside, and moved quickly toward the stream where Izaak was now pushing himself up and angrily making noises as he rose.
"Hah, I am sorry but that is funny. Are you alright though?" Artal asked as he neared the other boy, stifling the laughter long enough to put on a serious face. The angry face that turned toward him softened in just moments, before a smile broke from ear to ear. Wavy short length hair fell to ears, brown eyes staring up at him from the slightly rounded childlike face.
"Good enough, but did ya have ta trip me?" Sarcasm oozed off the other boy's words, which made him laugh again. Extending an arm he help hoist the smaller boy up. "Thanks, I heard you grunt, did I getcha?" Now said as he was looking about trying to relocate his own stick. It lay a few feet away, lost in the tangle perhaps.
"No, I think we managed to get tangled up and both hit the ground harder than we could each other." Smiling as he stated it, the other scoffed slightly and bound forward to reclaim his fallen 'Spear.'
"Is okay, next time I'll definitely getcha." Determination filled his friends voice, and he did not think he wouldn't but he laughed despite it. Moving back to claim his own that he dropped. It was a long sad looking thing now, cracked and broken at a bad angle near the top. Would need to find a new one, he thought as he turned back toward his friend.
"Maybe, or maybe I will get you!" Exclaimed with a smile as he pulled it back up and twirled it about, before the broken end flew off into the brush with a sad whistle as it flew off. The brown haired boy just laughed at the display.
"Not with that you won't. We will have to find a new one for you." And he bound off before a response could be given. Off into the brush toward the path back to the farm. With a sigh he ran forward, over the grass and through the brush beside the trees at the edge of the path. It would lead to Coron Ford, off in the north away from the farms. His family grew all sort of vegetables and raised pigs, and Izaak's family lived on a farm near theirs. South curving through the path he moved, the other boy barely in sight. But standing still. As he drew close he could see a look on the other's face, worry?
"Hey, why you standing still. Thought we were getting me another spear." Half yelled as he drew in close, only to see what his friend was gazing at. The house was on fire. Through the tree line and in the distance, past the pens smoke billowed off his house, flames dancing in the wind enveloping everything. Screams filled the air. And he saw his mother, a knife in hand running around the house. They both moved at once, sticks in hand. Off through the tree line and near the pens. They would need to be fast. Whatever was chasing mother would not wait long.
"Artal NO!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, stopping him in his tracks. Looking forward he saw her again, blood streaked her face. She had blood all down her dress and around the house several men were walking slowly. Stalking her as she moved. Limped. "Turn, run now!" She screamed again. Izaak was just before him then. And he went to grab his shoulder, but the other boy darted forward. "Izaak no! Run Izaak!" But there was no stopping him. And he could not move. He was frozen in place. Several more men were coming from the other side of the building. Filthy, angry looking men despite the smiles on their faces. Mother had no where to run. Where was father?
"Run ma!" He yelled, and all eyes looked to him now. "Please!" He screamed out, tears beginning to flow down his cheeks. Izaak was now nearly upon the first group, stick twirling as the men laughed and moved apart from one another just a bit. He spun and darted toward the first, and was met with a backhand which slung him down toward the ground in a heap.
"NO!" He heard his mother scream, and knife up she lunged forward back toward her pursuers. Shock filled him. Tears continued to flow, and a horrible groan left his body he did not know he was able to make. The metal protruded from her back, slick with red as she slumped down against the filthy man. Who laughed and slung her off his twisted blade onto the ground.
He wanted to scream, wanted to run forward. Wanted to bring his spear up high and fight them off. But she was already on the ground, and Izaak was already down as well. And his spear was broken. The crunch of leaves, and he turned just in time to see the unwashed face of one of the men not even five feet from him. Sword up and moving right at him now. 'Move!' He willed his feet. 'Please go!' He urged himself. And right as the man was upon him they responded. Spinning the stick up with a scream it caught the brute in the face with a loud crack, snapping once more. And he fled, tears trailing him as he ran. As fast as he could he ran. Not north, and not south. He was afraid they would find him. He ran east, into the woods. Toward the old oak he ran, but he did not stop. Through the stream he bounded, and off to the other side up and into the tree line. Shouts ringing out behind him of 'Catch him' and 'Do not let him get away!' But he did not stop. Over rock and past brush he ran. His lungs hurt as he moved, but he dared not stop. Tears flowing all the while, and making it so hard to breath. His vision blurry with them.
Hours seemed to pass, and finally he collapsed. Beneath a tall tree and surround by brush he fell, and curled his knees up against his chest and wailed. "Mother." Broke free from him, despite his best efforts to keep from calling out anything. Fearful they still crept the woods after him. Slung aside like rubbish. And Izaak. He left Izaak. More wails broke free. His breathing raged out of control, and he could hardly suck in air. Between the sobbing and trying to get a grasp on what he saw he stared up at the darkening sky through blurred vision. Sucking in air he shut his eyes, and tried to forget what he saw. It was just a nightmare, it would end. He just needed to wake up. Please let it be over when he woke up. Curled up beneath the tree he calmed himself, caught his breath, and kept his eyes pinched shut. Fearful of what would be there when he opened them once more.
Eyes opened, and were met with dim moonlight filtering in through the canopy, and a soft crackling sound coming from nearby. Pulling his hand up to rub at his eyes he felt something slip off from atop him. And gripped at a rugged cloth. A woolen blanket, but not his. Sitting up directly in front of the tree he looked around and caught eyes with a man. Watching him from a fire, crackling nearby a he sat, watching him curiously. Eyes locked on him, green of color and gleaming in the light of the fire the man wore a simple cloak and simple clothing, with a horn fastened to hip on his belt. Quickly shifting he went to stand.
"Easy now, easy lad. You been out for hours." The man spoke quickly, arms up palms showing. His voice was soft, but he could be one of them.
"Are you with them?" He spat out angrily. Standing up and looking for a direction to run. The man was in the path he had been running. He would need to cut north, or south to get away.
"I don't know who them is boy, but I assure you I am with no one." Said as the man sat back and eased himself to rest against his hands now placed behind him into the crushed grass. Fire flickered and danced in front of him, and something smelled good.
"The bad men, they." Broke off, and the weight of everything came back to him. Tears began again without being able to stop, and he crumpled back down onto the ground. "Mother." Broke free between horrible groans that came out of him. He wanted to stop, he wanted to be stronger.
"Now lad, shh." The man said as he rose. Moving around the fire he was large. Bigger than father. As he inched back away from the man as his hands extended down toward him the man froze, only for a moment. Before gripping the blanket and tugging it back up on him. He did not move, dared not. "It is ok, whoever these bad men are they were not following you. They might have been at one point but you lost em. You went flying by me half a day ago, so I followed your tracks." The man said as he moved back away and went toward the source of the smell. A rabbit spitted on a stick resting at an angle at the far side of the fire. Tears welled, but slowed.
"How do I know? That your not one of em." Shot forth defiantly he watched, as the man eased himself down again casting those green eyes back toward him.
"Lad, if I was one of these 'bad men' would I follow you, find you and cover you while making a fire? Catching a rabbit so you've something to eat and watching over you while you rested?" Stated matter of fact, it made sense. But maybe it was a trick?
"I dunno. Never seen them before, and now everyone's gone. Never seen you either." Again, shot forth with a little edge to his words. Which drew a deep sigh from the man. Which lasted only a few moments before he grew silent again. Artal shifted beneath the blanket, pressed up against the tree.
"Lad, im sorry. I don't know who they are or why they did what they did. My name is Tenil, and I am a hunter of the horn. We travel the land trying to find the fabled Horn of Valere. Came over from Baerlon, was heading off toward Bandar Eban, you came flying by in the woods, heard you wailing as you went so I followed. Not much else I can say to make you believe me. But if I was one of em. I wouldn't put all the effort into looking over you, nor would I get a meal going so you have something to eat." Arms crossed the broad chest of the man now as he watched.
Artal watched the man as he sat there. Doing nothing. It made sense, he didn't harm him. He covered him and started a fire and had food cooking. Which must have triggered something as the man sat forward and pulled at the stick with the skewered hare. Pinching at it and pulling at it he gave a noise of approval before tearing a chunk off and tossing it onto his pack which rested beside him. The crackling of the flames the only noise for the next several minutes as the man sat there eyeing him.
"Well? You hungry or what?" Does he trust this man? Bobbing his head up and down he stood slowly and moved forward, clutching at the blanket. Moving to the opposite side of the fire but not too close the man passed him the stick with the majority of the hare. "No complaints, I ate earlier and you need it with all the running you did. Eat up." And without awaiting an answer as he took it from him and sat beside the man the large body disappeared partially into the deepening shadows around the tree he rested upon and the sound of eating flowed from them.
"Thank you." Finally uttered, forth. Before he blew on the food several times. Biting into it the grease broke free and ran his chin, but he did not care. Ravenously he tore into it, tearing everything off. The crackle of the flames, and the crickets chirping around him the only noise as he made short work of the meal. Soon enough it was all gone and he cast the stick into the fire. Pulling the sleeve of his shirt he wiped at his face, trying to clean away all the filth.
"Now don't go messing up your shirt worse than it is already lad. Worry about the grime when we wake up. We get moving early. So you will need to rest up again. First though, tell me everything. Tell me what happened and what these men looked like." The shadow crept back up into the light of the fire, and Artal couldn't stop himself. Soon enough, he was telling Tenil everything. It all spilled out, and the tears flowed once more while he did. He would need to become stronger.