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Chapter 1 - Calradia! Here I Come!
A caravn rolls through the hot sandy desert, bombarded with heavy sunlight, threatening to give the occupants of the caravan wagons heatstroke. Or in one case, cause a near fatal heart attack to an elderly gentleman in one of the lead wagons.
It is a typical day in the desert, as the caravan crawled in the blazing heat, travellers and passengers hiding from the rays of light shining down on them through a clear blue sky. Not one of them liked this since day one but soldiered on knowing that what awaited them at the end of their journey would be new opportunities and hopefully, wealth.
Among the travelling passengers was a young man in his late teens, from what those in the wagon had deduced when he rode next to them, he had slightly tanned skin and was heavily muscled and athletically built from what the young maidens on the wagon could glean. He was also tall, as the same maidens discovered during the first night of their camp in the desert, there was a prominent scar running down vertically across his right eye about five inches in length.
He sported strong handsome facial features, a light stubble, his thick black wavy hair was tied in a short ponytail and it bobbed up and down and had scar that ran the length of his left forearm. He gripped the reins of his trusted steed tightly and tried as hard as he could to avoid the lustful stares of the young maidens from the wagon. He rode by its side and was well within arm's reach, to avoid an unnecessary fall, he clicked his tongue twice and nudged his horse to move away from the wagon.
He couldn't help but smirk when glimpsed the disappointed looks the maidens had on their pretty young faces. Not that he didn't mind the attention, any man worth his salt would have been flattered to get as much attention as he had now, but he was far more concerned with the hateful glares that were thrown his way from jealous betrothed, admirers and vengeful fathers. He didn't want to cause trouble during this journey, otherwise the damned desert raiders would swoop in and take whatever they damn well please.
'Yes, swooping is bad...' the young man thought, amused by it. Suddenly he sensed, or more accurately heard, a rider coming up to his right and he glanced back to see who it was.
"Milord, Dagen." The unknown rider greeted the young man with a slight bow of his head.
How many times do I have to tell you not to address me as that, Yu?" Dagen huffed in annoyance as he shook his head. "I'm not a lord anymore, not since father lost everything and I was forced from home."
"You needn't blame your father, milord." Yu retorted and put a heavy emphasis on the title.
"You're not going to let it go aren't you?" Dagen sighed, he was tired of having to remind the old butler, who has been with his family for decades, about his status having not mattered any more and that he was no longer entitled to be called a 'lord'.
"Never!" You declared with a dramatic wave of his fisted right hand. "Your family took me in when I had nowhere else to go and I gave a blood oath to faithfully serve your grandfather, your father and now you. I will never abandon that oath...your current status and situation will not deter this old fool from carrying out his duty."
"Well I can honestly say I'm grateful but surely you would want to experience the freedom of adventure and travel the world." Dagen countered, he always wondered why Yu was taken in as butler.
"It warms my old heart tobhear your words, milord." The butler smiled a fatherly smile. "But my place is by your side, I will travel the world and experience great adventures with you, milord. I was tasked with your tutelage and combat training and I will continue to do so as we journey into the unknown."
For a full two minutes the young nobleman rode quietly along with his trusted butler/bodyguard/trainer/tutor, in stunned silence. He could feel the sincerity of the old man's words and was moved to near tears by it but held back for fear of a verbal reprisal from his trainer.
"Thank you." Dagen whispered under his breath as he returned his focus on riding. The butler only nodded and rode alongside his young master. He did spy the young maidens giving his young lord a once over and couldn't help but notice the forlorn look they had. Yu shook his head, barely able to hold back a laugh.
"So Headsman. We're nearly there aren't we?"
The Bedouin guide only nodded as he scanned the horizon for something. Dagen was beginning to get irrated by this and turned to look around but saw nothing but desert dunes. Or in his own words "...sand, sand, sand, north ng but bloody sand everywhere!"
At the beginning of the journey, the guide and his escorts advised their passengers to pack their belongings that were not suited for extreme heat weather and to wear loose fitting clothes and wear turbans to help shade their head from the sun. A few didn't listen and paid for that in sun strokes, sun burnt skin and other irritating consequences resulting from the burning sun.
Dagen himself wasn't at all too bothered by the heat but it still took a considerable amount of tolerance on his part. He grinded his teeth to keep from losing his temper as the Bedouin headsman ignored him and continued to scan the horizon.
Finally fed up with waiting, Dagen turned his horse around and brought it in an about face maneuver. He clicked his heels just a little and urged his steed to a trot. He reached the third wagon where Yu was casually talking with one of the elder ladies in the wagon. The butler caught sight of his young lord and grinned as he greeted the young fellow.
"How goes it?" Yu began, "did the headsman say when we'll reach the Sarranid lands?"
"That damned mute didn't so much as utter a single syllable!" Dagen yelled angrily, "in fact, I think he doesn't even know what a syllable is!"
"And you do?!" Yu raised an eyebrow in amusement as he watched the theatric show his young master was putting on. All attention was now on him and Yu shot a glance to the side, there on the horizon a little over to the right where the sand dunes rose high, was a single desert raider. His silhouette showed no details at this distance but Yu doubt the man was not armed. So Dagen's sudden outburst is to try and keep the occupants of the lead wagons from panicking.
"Of course I do!" Dagen waved his right finger and pointed st himself. His voice raised higher catching the attention of other riders and wagon passengers within earshot. However, he noticed the Bedouin escorts didn't pay attention to him and instead kept vigilant watch of the dune hills.
"Well then prove it!" Yu playfully challenged and backed it up with a boisterous laugh that caused those nearby to either look incredulously at him or laugh along. The children all thought he was hilarious but didn't laugh along because they all thought the old man was a little cranky
"Syllable is a ball of silly!" Dagen explained seriously but then the rolling crowd burst out laughing at this. A few jeers and snark remarks were thrown his way and he pretended to be offended by some of the playful insults.
For the next few minutes the travellers did not notice their trailers following them hoping to find stragglers but with the Bedouin escorts present they didn't so much as get a closer look and from the looks of things, this particular caravan had a large number of capable fighting men. All of whom ranged from 15 to 45, were the raiders attack they would lose more than gain. So wisely they stayed back and waited before departing to their hideout seeing as how their prey was more armed and outnumbered them. Next time maybe?
The jeweled city of Shariz with its spires and domed roofs as well as the intirocate and exotic Sarranid designs with their aesthetic curves and arches, Dagen marvelled at the city. It was also large, larger than any city he'd been tonback home. Yu had to agree and both found the city's architecture to be strangely soothing and very welcoming and homey.
They each said their farewells with the others in the caravan and asked around for the local inn and were pointed to its direction. Not wasting time both elderly butler and impoverished young lord marched across roads, through side streets and finally found their destination. It was a humble inn on the eastern end of the city near the main gates so it wasn't that hard to find, and it does have a sign.
Entering inside the inn keeper, a woman in her late thirties, perked up as she saw the strapping hound lad coming her way. She gasped at how young the man was and her inner voice told her she must have him warm her bed tonight. Putting on her best seditious look she greeted the young man and his...servant? 'Oh my...he's a noble!' the innkeeper thought happily as she bashed her long eyelashes at the young man.
"Two rooms please. One for me and another for this old codger." Dagen pulled out the necessary coins needed and paid ffortwo days worth of rent. Yu narrowed his eyes at his young lord for calling him an 'old codger'.
"Of course." The woman spoke with that funny yet exotic accent, despite speaking the common tongue of Calradia, which is what language Dagen learned from Yu, the Sarranids and indeed the Kherjits were among the only ones who retained their own accents stemming from their cultural heritage.
As the sun sunk beyond the western end of the city the two travellers slept in their rooms with one thing going through their minds; 'now that they're in Calradia, what are they going to do?'
Dagen closed his eyes and his tired body embraced the arms of wondrous sleep.
Dagen sat up straight in his bed, his skin pouring out sweat atban alarming rate, his under tunic was drenched and his eyes bloodshot from his sleeplessness. He had been having the nightmares...or more accurately, remembering his 'past', a past he knew nothing of and would have marked him as a madman should he ever share them with anyone. Only his parents and Yu, his family's trusted Butler and bodyguard, knew of these reccuring dreams, but remained a little skeptical about his fantastical claims.
He stood up and began dressing, putting on his padded shirt and then arming himself with his crossbow, a short sword and picked up his bolt pouch and belted it on. His eyes darted over to the shield lying up against the wall opposite the doorway. He remembered when it was given to him by his father...late father...his eyes tewred up for just a moment and his body shuddered involuntarily as a deep seating sadness washed over him. His mother had died mere months after he was born...then his father racked up significant debt from the king and finally was killed during a skirmish with a rival lord and his lands taken over, Dagen was only fifteen at the time but had taken an active part in his father's battles since the age of ten and had killed at the tender age of twelve on the eve of his thirteenth birthday.
Shoving away that memory, the young lord grabbed his shield and strapped it to his back. Going down the stairs he was met with the sight of the usual drinkers in the inn's common room and sighted the innkeeper behind her counter. Now he'd seen cougars and they are by far the most dangerous women he can encounter, he shivered in fright as the thought of being straddled by the innkeeper, who was a stunning beauty by the way, crossed his mind and his cheeks became as red as a tomato. He turned away from the woman who no doubt noticed him blush, when he reached the door he happen to glance back and saw the innkeeper made suggestive gestures with her balled fist, her mouth and her toungue. He looked away quickly and opened the door.
Glad he was out of that place, Dagen wandered around the immediate area near the inn and then strayed far into the back alleys where he began doubting his decision to explore the city at such an early hour. If he had to guess, it would be another two hours before the sun broke through the eastern horizon. Then he stopped dead in his tracks as his neck hairs stood on end, his fighting sense didn't decieve his ears for he clearly heard the rasping blade as it left its scabbard.
He brought down his shield and drew his short sword and turned around the corner and came face to face with his assailant. A local, by the looks of him, wearing the typical Sarranid loose robes stripped with the iconic orange and cream white colours. The man had his blade drawn and a shield as well and charged recklessly at Dagen.
A smirk formed on Dsgen's face, his observation of his untimely opponent showed that the man was not a combat efficient fighter and look at that form! Sloppy!
Dagen brought his shield upwards as his for swung his blade down from a high arch enabling Dagen to exploit the opening he saw but was surprised when the sloppiness of the fool who thought he could take him on, block his strike with his shield.
Quickly recovering, Dagen shoved his shield into the man's face and madenhim stumble backwards in a daze. He quickly kicked the man and this threw him off his feet and the would be assassin fell with a heavy thud on his back. In one quick strike, Dagen severed the man's sword arm just below the wrist and kicked away the blade, he looked down at his pitiful foe who was screaming and crying out in pain. His bleeding stump of a hand flowed freely with huge amounts of blood.
Dagen approached the man and with one downward thrust of his sword he shoved his sword down the man's chest, spearing his heart and killing instantly. The assailant's eyes were wide and spoke volumes of the horrific pain he suffered as he lost his hand, Dagen reached down on his knees and closed the man's eyes.
"Go in peace. Let your sins be cleansed with your death. For though you died in vain, you did fought with bravery. I am witness to thee." Dagen offered the prayer words of his family, a tradition going back generations, taught to honour the dead soldiers and those whom he found worthy of the prayer. Such as this stranger who had seen fit to fight him, perhaps he would have put up a fight if he were a professional but clearly the man was not a fighter...he may even be just a criminal but the fact that he rushed Dagen with such reckless abandon proved a merit to his bravery even if he didn't see it himself.
"I'm glad you're alright." Dagen pulled out his crossbow and turned so fast the source of the voice gasped in fear. His weapon aimed squarely at the well dressed fellow's chest. "I'm not armed!"
"What are you doing here?" Dagen sighed, one wrong move and he'd have killed an innocent man, can't have that on his conscious. "Who are you?"
"Shh. We can't talk here. These walls have ears. Come follow me to my home and I'll explain more." The well dressed man, either a noble or a merchant from the fine fabric. Dagen mused on what this means but shrugged and followed, cautiously of course.
Please give me your thoughts on that. A little action, however small and anticlimactic. I'm following the starting quest but will make a few changes here and there. Of course the further along the story, the more some things may show up that aren't actually included in the game. Later.