Treading Familiar Ground
AN: This'll be my first story on here, ALL criticisms are welcome. This story will be very sporadic in updates, as well as rubber-banding in terms of quality, pacing, and story-telling. To put it into perspective, I literally thought and planned this chapter while on the toilet after eating a bad dumpling after 36 hours of continuous consciousness. Currently writing on the 37th hour. Anyways, let's get on with the "story".
I feel grass on my neck, the wind on my face, and a weight in my hand. Quiet mumbling comes from seemingly every direction. What?
My eyes snap open, my breath catches, and I barely register the person standing above me, sword raised in hand about to stab down, before I swing my right arm. What appears to be a mace of some kind smashes into the person's hip and they lose strength in their leg and fall flat on the ground. I scramble onto my knees, blood rushing, before quickly covering the scant distance separating us and loom over them, mace raising as they slowly begin the motions of getting up. His head turns towards me and I'm greeted by glowing red eyes before my mace comes down, smashing their face in.
The person – thing – immediately begins evaporating into black smoke, causing me to reel back and fall on my ass even as I try not to choke on the smoke that engulfed me. I quickly move back and stand up, wincing slightly as my right hip twinged in pain to remind me yet again of that age-old injury, no time to stretch. My head swivels, eyes darting. I'm surrounded by at least a dozen more of the sword-wielding things, or at least as close to surrounded as one could be without being completely boxed in. Where am I? Later. Less questions more thinking.
My chest hurts, I blink and remember to breath. Through my nose, of course, breathing through the mouth no matter the situation is just unseemly. The things are shambling towards me like zombies, and my mind races as I try to think of a way out of my current situation. Luckily the closest one is at least several meters away, and at their current pace, I get a scant few seconds to compose myself even as my breathing speeds up and sweat begins to bead on my forehead from the stress.
I'm wearing some kind of leather armour. Seems a bit soft for armour. I have a mace. I'm surrounded by smoky beings-things-zombies. Why are they mumbling? What do?
Run? Yes. That seems like a good idea. The best idea.
Where? Through the path with the least of these smoke things. My head and eyes quickly roam my surroundings, trying to find the way out of my encirclement. My left, three of them. Not too close together, might be able to slip between them. Better hit a couple with the mace first, just to be sure.
Deep breath. I charge the one farthest away from the rest, mace barely managing to smash my mace into his (no idea, looks like a he, and it's easier than saying "thing" all the time) sword arm even as he raised it to slash at me. My mace comes in again on a return swing. Suddenly he lurches at me with mouth wide open in an apparent attempt to take a chunk out of my neck, crushing my right arm against my body as he suddenly closes the distance. Toocloseway. Out of instinct, my left arm rushes up to block him and his mouth latches around my arm. The leather does its job, keeping me relatively unharmed (though probably pretty bruised) even as I shove it back, where it stumbles and falls as I kick out his feet. It tries to yell something, but barely even gets the chance to begin getting up before my mace has caved its face in.
Deep breath, even as I tense my legs to begin running again. A loud growl from the right. Closecloseclosetooclose. My head snaps to my right only to see another of the things quickly (?!) close the scant few meters separating us in a charge, already in the middle of his downswing.
No time. Jump towards. Shoulder check with right. Sword slides along left arm. DEFINITELY not leather armour. A numb pain. Both down, hear galloping? Probably just heart. Push self back, mace up, mace down. Breath. Choke on smoke. Fucking smoke-fuckers. Tired. Got stalled too long. Third one closing in, barely meters away, others behind him. Fuck. Try and get up. Can't feel right hip. Left arm gives when weight placed on it. Fuck. Try again with right hand.
A horse's neigh?
A lance pierces through the approaching zombie in the chest, carrying it away before the mounted knights (must be) barrel through the others behind it, knocking them down even as I begin to hear voices from the distance. An arrow pierces the head of a rising zombie, even as a lightning bolt (coming from the side?!) vaporizes another. In moments, it's over. The knights slow their horses down to a trot and begin making their way back to my position. I blink, then I blink again, before collapsing back on my ass.
A blond girl in pigtails rushes up to me, glowing staff waving in my face even as a surprisingly sharp pain lances up my left arm and my hip through the adrenaline. Sorely tempted to scream, restrain. Would be rude to yell into saviour's face. Calming down. Safe now, I think. Please don't slap a debt on me.
Deep breath through nose. I look at my arm and truly notice just how much I had bled. Calm. Calm.
I look at the young pigtailed girl and pause for a moment... weirdest pigtail ever, almost seems familiar. I wonder how she keeps it up. Focus, thanks first, weird appearances later. Be polite.
"Fhank you." Damn slurring - and in front of a kid no less, how embarassing - I thought I got rid of you ages ago. Must be the adrenaline that's still lingering or, I suddenly realize, my surprisingly dry throat and mouth.
She smiles brightly at me, "No problem! I'm always here to help anyone in need!" How adorable, world needs more people like her, at least the chances of these people being ones that save people only to inundate them with debts is less likely than before with a member like her around.
"Indeed," comes a voice from my left. It's a blue-haired guy walking towards us while sheathing his sword (hair dye?) with a kind smile, in some strange outfit – actually, now that I have the chance to actually pay attention, everyone is wearing something weird; Blue in that ridiculous one-sleeved getup, the girl in the poofy dress, the knights in their armour, the two in the distance jogging over in what appeared to be a robe and a frilly suit, and me in my leather "armour". Not to mention the medieval-like weapons and apparently fucking magic. Calm. I'll get my answers later. Hopefully.
"We Shepherds are glad to help anyone in need. Are you able to stand?" Asks Blue even as he finishes approaching and extends his right hand to me in assistance. I almost reply in the negative, before noticing I've regained feeling in my hip. Huh, the wonders of magic. I swap my mace over to my left hand and reach up to grasp his extended hand before pulling myself up. As slowly as politely possible, no idea when that hip might act up again.
"Yes. Thank you again, I would've certainly went down and stayed down if it weren't for your group. So, once again. Thanks." Ugh, I was getting back into my bad habit of thanking people too much when I'm stressed. Always happens... wait, Shepherds?
"Shay," I was getting nervous again. Slurring, piss off, trying to look composed. Calm. "By Shepherds, you wouldn't happen to mean..." I hate faces, I suck with faces. I have enough trouble with real ones, let alone anime ones, and this meeting is really driving that home.
"If you are wondering whether I mean the Shepherds of the Halidom of Ylisse, traveler, then yes. My name is Chrom, may I have yours?" Chrom replies to my unasked question, tilting his shoulders a bit to better present the Brand on his uncovered shoulder, my hand still grasped in his, though it was more of a handshake now. His smile was still in place, though it had gained a small tinge of amusement as he saw my reaction. Ass, you just blew my goddamn mind, of course I'm gonna look surprised. Looks like I got my answers a bit sooner than I anticipated.
"My name is Lee," I didn't know mouths could get so dry, at least I'm not slurring my words like an idiot "It's an honor to meet you." I grip his hand a bit tighter and firmly return the handshake. Shitfuck. That stress is really compounding. Pokerface, don't fail me now like you did earlier.
Well, at least I'm in a universe where I'm at least somewhat acquainted with the plot?
Aaaaaand so ends the first chapter. Also, yes, I have been somewhat trained to "fight" though never with anything larger than a knife/small club.
Start tearing people, I expect at least five criticisms by the time I wake up. Preferably about the dialogue, since I absolutely suck at dialogues.
Also, I totally think I'm flip-flopping on the characterization of myself like an idiot, not to mention the other characters. Though I do confess that my worries/nervousness does come and go at the drop of a hat IRL. We'll see if it carries alright in the story.