Since I'm supposed to be working diligently on my Comp I paper I decided to post this here instead. It's the first bit of a small story I'm writing for fun. Comments, suggestions, insults, all welcome and most will be appreciated.
The crisp winter morning air did nothing to lessen the stench of the dead as two women rode into the remains of the small town. Bodies littered the streets, hung out of windows, or smoldered in the remains of burned down buildings. A battle had taken place here, or a massacre, as there seemed to be no enemy soldiers among the dead. There was little evidence, but it appeared that the battle had happened less than a few days before they arrived. A slight movement caught the eye of one of the riders. She stopped and dismounted, moving closer to the burned out shell of what had once been a well built two-story home. A gasp from the other rider halted her movements. Turning quickly on the heel of her foot the woman looked around for her companion. She was nowhere to be seen. There was a subdued rasp of leather against steel as the dismounted rider drew her sword and stalked through the snow towards where her companion had last been. Reaching the end of the street she flattened herself against the corner of a building and peered around the corner.
What she saw caused her to gasp. Not in fear, sadness, or revulsion; but in shock. Her companion, far from landing herself in trouble, had stumbled upon the commons of the small town. It wasn’t so much where they were as it was what was there. Bodies, and not just any bodies. The bodies of what the woman guessed were the cause of all of the death in the small town. She sheathed her sword and quickly began to look over one of the fallen men. Red partial plate armor over silver chain mail with a gold lightning bolt engraved on the left shoulder. A division of Turik stormers, the most despised branch of the Turik army. They were the advance warriors for the main army. The stormers never attacked large targets, taking out small towns and villages before the main army arrived to spread fear and confusion. About thirty men in the red and silver armor lay lifeless around the center of the town commons, where the other woman had dismounted and was busy doing something with a body. As if feeling the other woman’s eyes on her the woman in the center of the commons turned and looked at her companion.
“Sister! Quickly, bring me the bandages. This one’s still alive.” she shouted from where she was and instantly turning back to the person in her hands.
She sheathed her sword quickly and quietly then called her horse over. A minute of searching turned out the bandages and the small clay jar that held a special healing salve. Without hesitation she hurried over to her companion. Wondering why her friend was trying to save one of their most hated enemies. Passing over the corpses she saw that many of them had only one or two well placed injuries. Whatever group of fighters took out this division were amazing swordsmen. She thought to herself. Sighing to herself she knelt down beside the other woman and looked upon the man that she held carefully. He wasn’t a very large man, looking to be only a little over five feet tall and having a wiry stature. His short black hair was tousled, topping a well defined face, clean shaven and scar free. Cuts and bruises dotted his bare upper body and numerous gashes were apparent in his dark trousers. He was filthy. Dried mud mixed with blood was caked all over his body. It was almost like a second skin that covered everything except for his face and the places where he was injured and the blood had washed it away. This won’t do, she said to herself while looking around we’ll have to clean his wounds before I can safely bandage them. Placing her hand on his forehead she noticed that he was cold. How long has he been out here? Dressed like that it’s amazing that he’s still alive! Ah, that one will have to do.
“Amelia, wrap him in your spare blanket and then keep watch over him.” she said to her companion. Standing up quickly and moving off after Amelia had started moving she thought to herself “I’m not sure how long he’ll last like this so I’ll have to work quickly.”
In a matter of minutes she had entered a mostly intact home and started a fire in the small fireplace in the kitchen. Then she had headed back outside and picked up the injured man. He’s amazingly light, was there a food shortage here with the war and the poor rains this year? She placed the frail looking man atop the table. She instructed Amelia to find a piece of cloth to use as a wash rag and then went outside to the well. To her surprise the whole thing was intact. With a bucket of water in hand and a small vial of oil from her saddle bag she made her way back inside. Shutting all of the doors between the outer rooms and the kitchen and finally shutting the kitchen doors. Fortunate for us and this fellow that the house is laid out like it is. A room that is in the center of the house, thus having no windows will warm easier than any of the others. With the addition of the fireplace it should be an excellent place to rest and help this man.
It took hours to clean and dress all of the wounds, some of which required stitching. Dusk was giving way into night as she was handed a bowl of soup and a chunk of stale bread by Amelia.
“You know, it feels kind of strange.” Amelia said slowly “ I don’t know this man, nor how he came to be in such a state. Or if he is a friend or foe. Yet I felt compelled to help him as soon as I saw him.” She looked into the fire as it crackled merrily in the brick fireplace. “I’m not even sure how I noticed him. He’s so small and was so dirty he nearly looked like a piece of the ground that he was lying on.” Amelia looked back to her companion “I can’t remember why I even wandered over to the commons. And you, Josie, you used the last of your wizard’s salve and the fire oil on him.”
Josie finished her bowl before answering. “Honestly I can’t tell you what made me use the last bits of those magic medicines. It just seemed to be the thing to do.”
Amelia looked carefully over the man that they had just used the last of two priceless substances on. “ I wonder what kind of man we just saved Josie.”
Josie was also studying him, wondering the same thing. “ I don’t know sister, but I suppose we’ll find out in a few days.”
The crisp winter morning air did nothing to lessen the stench of the dead as two women rode into the remains of the small town. Bodies littered the streets, hung out of windows, or smoldered in the remains of burned down buildings. A battle had taken place here, or a massacre, as there seemed to be no enemy soldiers among the dead. There was little evidence, but it appeared that the battle had happened less than a few days before they arrived. A slight movement caught the eye of one of the riders. She stopped and dismounted, moving closer to the burned out shell of what had once been a well built two-story home. A gasp from the other rider halted her movements. Turning quickly on the heel of her foot the woman looked around for her companion. She was nowhere to be seen. There was a subdued rasp of leather against steel as the dismounted rider drew her sword and stalked through the snow towards where her companion had last been. Reaching the end of the street she flattened herself against the corner of a building and peered around the corner.
What she saw caused her to gasp. Not in fear, sadness, or revulsion; but in shock. Her companion, far from landing herself in trouble, had stumbled upon the commons of the small town. It wasn’t so much where they were as it was what was there. Bodies, and not just any bodies. The bodies of what the woman guessed were the cause of all of the death in the small town. She sheathed her sword and quickly began to look over one of the fallen men. Red partial plate armor over silver chain mail with a gold lightning bolt engraved on the left shoulder. A division of Turik stormers, the most despised branch of the Turik army. They were the advance warriors for the main army. The stormers never attacked large targets, taking out small towns and villages before the main army arrived to spread fear and confusion. About thirty men in the red and silver armor lay lifeless around the center of the town commons, where the other woman had dismounted and was busy doing something with a body. As if feeling the other woman’s eyes on her the woman in the center of the commons turned and looked at her companion.
“Sister! Quickly, bring me the bandages. This one’s still alive.” she shouted from where she was and instantly turning back to the person in her hands.
She sheathed her sword quickly and quietly then called her horse over. A minute of searching turned out the bandages and the small clay jar that held a special healing salve. Without hesitation she hurried over to her companion. Wondering why her friend was trying to save one of their most hated enemies. Passing over the corpses she saw that many of them had only one or two well placed injuries. Whatever group of fighters took out this division were amazing swordsmen. She thought to herself. Sighing to herself she knelt down beside the other woman and looked upon the man that she held carefully. He wasn’t a very large man, looking to be only a little over five feet tall and having a wiry stature. His short black hair was tousled, topping a well defined face, clean shaven and scar free. Cuts and bruises dotted his bare upper body and numerous gashes were apparent in his dark trousers. He was filthy. Dried mud mixed with blood was caked all over his body. It was almost like a second skin that covered everything except for his face and the places where he was injured and the blood had washed it away. This won’t do, she said to herself while looking around we’ll have to clean his wounds before I can safely bandage them. Placing her hand on his forehead she noticed that he was cold. How long has he been out here? Dressed like that it’s amazing that he’s still alive! Ah, that one will have to do.
“Amelia, wrap him in your spare blanket and then keep watch over him.” she said to her companion. Standing up quickly and moving off after Amelia had started moving she thought to herself “I’m not sure how long he’ll last like this so I’ll have to work quickly.”
In a matter of minutes she had entered a mostly intact home and started a fire in the small fireplace in the kitchen. Then she had headed back outside and picked up the injured man. He’s amazingly light, was there a food shortage here with the war and the poor rains this year? She placed the frail looking man atop the table. She instructed Amelia to find a piece of cloth to use as a wash rag and then went outside to the well. To her surprise the whole thing was intact. With a bucket of water in hand and a small vial of oil from her saddle bag she made her way back inside. Shutting all of the doors between the outer rooms and the kitchen and finally shutting the kitchen doors. Fortunate for us and this fellow that the house is laid out like it is. A room that is in the center of the house, thus having no windows will warm easier than any of the others. With the addition of the fireplace it should be an excellent place to rest and help this man.
It took hours to clean and dress all of the wounds, some of which required stitching. Dusk was giving way into night as she was handed a bowl of soup and a chunk of stale bread by Amelia.
“You know, it feels kind of strange.” Amelia said slowly “ I don’t know this man, nor how he came to be in such a state. Or if he is a friend or foe. Yet I felt compelled to help him as soon as I saw him.” She looked into the fire as it crackled merrily in the brick fireplace. “I’m not even sure how I noticed him. He’s so small and was so dirty he nearly looked like a piece of the ground that he was lying on.” Amelia looked back to her companion “I can’t remember why I even wandered over to the commons. And you, Josie, you used the last of your wizard’s salve and the fire oil on him.”
Josie finished her bowl before answering. “Honestly I can’t tell you what made me use the last bits of those magic medicines. It just seemed to be the thing to do.”
Amelia looked carefully over the man that they had just used the last of two priceless substances on. “ I wonder what kind of man we just saved Josie.”
Josie was also studying him, wondering the same thing. “ I don’t know sister, but I suppose we’ll find out in a few days.”