I own nothing people. o Who would have thought? 3 (Ok I entered in a new species. It's a spright. This creature only has four emotions. Joy, anger, love, and hate. Their parents were not sprights, they were born inocent of heart and are the reverse of shades. Where a shade is cruel, a spright is kind. Get the idea? good. 3)
The sound of the battle blanketed the town with fear. There was a dead scilence other than the clang of steel on steel, the screams of pain, and the howling of the enemy.
A women of about 5'5" exited the tent set up for the wounded. She had arived ten minutes before the first flesh biting swing was given. She had seven others with her. Her short brown hair leveled off in layers from the bottom of her ears to her shoulders. Her eyes gave her expressionless face a dark, cold sadness. Her thing bladed nose sat firmly and gracefuly above deep pink lips. Her high cheek bones were perfect for the slight pink tinge that seemed to lay in perfection on her face. Her eyebrows gracefuly arched over her eyes and gave her the look of dangerous beauty.
Her clothes were very strange. She wore an olive green shirt that had a strange silver device down the center. Half open, the silver device revieled a plain black shirt. She wore men's leggings that seemed to gracefuly fit her form. The were a pure deep black that had simple sowed designs on the ends of them. Upon her feet were a pair of strange black material. It was designed to her foot surely. Resting on her side reaching from her hip to her foot was a beautifuly displayed shealth. It was a pure white silver. Ornated with silver on the very tip reaching up in a graceful cureved and wavy line. The hilt of the sword inside the shealth reached halfway to her elbow. It was pure white except the single black line that twisted around it once.
What realy amazed Petey was her age. She could be no older than twenty. Yet there she stood talking to the other five, all dressed in the same clotheing colors with the same sword. The sword was longer or shorter depending on the owner. The only difference between the swords was the color of the line on the hilt. She gave them orders in a quite tone that spoke with power all on it's own. The only one who did not move was the man who had long blonde hair that was tied back behind his head in a low horsetail. He looked over at Petey and raised an eye brow. From there he shook his head and went to the South of the town.
"Can I do something for you?" Her voice was not cold, angry, amazed, nothing. She had mastered the skill of being able to strike fear into people without effort.
"Yes actualy. I wonder whom are you, and why are you here? Your group and your self seem to be highly trained simply by the make of your weapons." Petey spoke bravely refusing to give into the fear he felt.
She smiled slightly and the sad disposition she had carried with her seemed to fade. She held her hand out and he shook it. "I'm known as Z, just call me that. This little skirmish out side of these walls has brought my team and I here. Everyone of us is the best at the one thing we do. The color of the sword hilts tells you the ranks, as well as another thing, and the skill which ever on of us possesses. We followed the army up until a week ago. Knowing where they were going we made a large arch around them and reached here just before them. I realise this is odd to you, but believe me when one of them tells you to get down or move, do it." Her final two words, he took to heart. He couldn't tell you why he trusted her, he just did.
"Why are you here to help then? There are eight of you, even though every one counts, why did you take the trouble to follow?"
"It is what we do. I cannot explain any further, nor give you the names of my compainions. We are hunted by the crown for the trouble we cause in fighting their army. Please take this warning to heart, for you wont recieve another, my companions are dangerous. They may listen to me on battle orders, past that they do as they please. This includes hurting people in their way. I don't mean to harm you, however, they might. Wow I'm glad the formal stuff is taken care of!" The last part she said quite joyously.
"So do you have a name? Or must you join the ranks of the never ending nick names?" She asked him with child like inocence.
"I'm Petey, the town smith."
"You seem shocked, I wonder why?" She smiled and seemed like a little three year old that everyone cannot help but adore.
"Just a little. Your attitude just jumped from very serious to very, erm well spright like."
"I wonder why?" She giggled and turned to a horse that had walked up behind her. She ran her fingers softly and kindly down it's face and whispered somehting to it. The horse was pure black and seemed to hold great strength. The beast held it's head high and it's long mane lay over it's neck in an almost royal maner. It's tail brushed the ground as if it were trailing behind. It had no saddle or anything to suggest it had an owner.
"This is Hoshina. She is a wild horse, though she lets me ride her. I have yet to see a horse that can match her speed."
Petey thought it far more inteligent to stay clear of the horse. By the way she seemed she would trample him for even looking at her.
"Err well I have to be going to the eastern gate. I am most certain that I have spent too much time upon getting back there. Good day." Petey bowed his head to her and went off at a quick pace to the Eastern gate.
He reached the gate just as he heard evil laughter. He moved quickly to the ladder and climbed up. He reached the top and peered over to see five large urgals standing around ten dead ones. Two of them had been killed by the same arrow as it seemed. He looked at the others to see they had a small boy with them. They had knocked him unconsious. His body dangled limply from one of the urgals shoulders.
Petey saw his chance. He had his axe. He snuck back down the latter silently unlocked the gate. He then climbed back up and jumped down sliding his blade down from the top of the urgals head and cut him in two. He swung his axe in a twisting arch slashing one accrose it's belly spilling it's inards onto the dusty ground. He brought his axe up in a choping movement and in the last second pulled back and swung with the blade facing from him, all the way so the axe caused his body to spin. He was soon facing the same way and allready his axe bit into another. The remaining two were ready by the time he gained some balance. They did not wait for him to gain control on his footing, instead they charged at him with blades rusted from old blood they had never bothered to clear from the blades surface. He blocked on with the handle on his axe and took a step back gaining his foothold. He swung down on the urgals head all in one movement. With his other hand he had pulled out his dagger. He took and and slit the others throat before it knew what had happened. He picked up the small boy from the final urgals back and sliped back inside the gate. He closed and locked the gate and ran back to the medical tents. He handed the boy over to the blonde man he had seen earlier. He seemed to be about twnety as well.
"Thank you. I'll take him." The blonde took the small boy and layed him on a cot. He examined him and went into his black bag that reseted on his shoulder. He took out two wooden splints and a lot of bandage. He splinted the boys arm and wraped the cloth firmly. Petey knew he must be the herbalist or healer of Z's group. He marked in his minds eye that the deep green stripe ment healer.
He turned to leave when the blonde spoke, "Your lucky."
Petey turned around to see a set of silvery eyes resting upon him. "How so?"
He smiled, "She took the time to explain about us to you. She normaly just gives people a cold glare and tells them to bugger off." He looked highly amused. "By she I mean Z."
"Really? She strikes me as someone who is kind to everyone."
He shruged and went back to the boy. "Why are you all hear truthfuly?"
He sighed. "Many reasons. The most prominant would be to help fight Galbatorix." He took out a small wooden cube. It was three inches along the bottom. On the lid a beautiful rose was carved. It was so detailed it seemed real. If it was not for the size, Petey would have thought it to be real. The blonde man opened it and withdrew a golden string. It was as fine as hair. It was about three feet in length. The boy wraped it around the splint and it faded into the cloth. He placed the little box back into his bag and stood up to help everyone else.
"By the way, everyone calls me Guy." Guy went over to where Alymay was and shook his head. He pulled a golden chain from his neck. A small diamond vile hung on the end of it. Alymay being one of Petey's best friends he went over to the bed. "This is a potion mixed with a shades blood, rose oil, dragon bones, and the most importantly, a sprights blood. Since all sprights have the ability to heal themselves with thier blood it makes for an excelent healing potion. However, it needs a shades blood to make sure the blood of the person does not get sick from the blood. Since the body has natral bacteria inside it, it would be bad for the blood to kill it. It basicaly counter acts. The rose oil is to lighten the power. This specific potion is swalowed so it can heal more than the area it touches. Three drops can save one from almost certain death." He lifted Alymay's head and driped two drops onto her tounge. He made sure she lay down flat on her back before moving one.
Petey just stared at his back. Guy was so strange. He spoke to him as if the myth were true. What he most likely gave her was for pain. She had almost no chance of surving the wounds she had sustained. He just stared at her unmoving face and did not notice the small wounds on her arms slowly closing with no trace left behind. He stood and left after three minutes and went to the South gate.
"Who are you, and what are you doing?" The words came from one of the people who arived with the dragon rider. His hair just lightly brushed his shoulders.
"Peter, The town smith. Most call me Petey."
"All right then. Well I'm Murtagh. You can't go this way." He rolled his eyes. "Her royal magesty demands I keep people from walking into her fun zone."
"Royal majesty?" Petey asked him rather amused.
"Yes, Z. Met her have you?" He asked the last part when Petey's eye brows went up. "I've known her, Guy "he paused to roll his eyes," Jon, and Thom for years. I still don't get how she can be fifteen and weild that sword as if she had been doing it for thirty years."
Petey was only slightly surprised by her age. She may have appeared older, but her attitude said differently. She had yet to become arrogant like most twenty to twenty three year olds do. "So black must be fighting." Petey mumbled to himself.
"Naw, black is for magic. You've got the basic colors, Black, green, blue, white, violet, orange, red, yellow, and brown. Black as you know is magical talents, green is healing, white is spy or agent, violet is for tactical, orange is for knowledge, red is for riding, yellow is for leadership, and brown is for fighting. Simple really."
"Magic? So she is a spright? That would make her just as powerful as a shade, since they are the oposites of one another."
"Exactly. Well you had better be getting to the East or North gate. This one is well beyond covered." Murtagh nodded to him and Petey shruged and went to the North gate. Upon ariving he did not like the sound one bit. He arived just as someone fell from the gate when it was being hit to open. It seemed to be laced with pure power if it could still stand and have someone be knocked off.
He had his axe ready when he reached there. A black haired man walked up and down lined soldiers. He was cold and cruel. His sword had two color twists. Yellow and red twisted as one.
"None of you are as well trained as I would like you to be. So your just going to go into battle anyway. Is that clear? Good. I do not tell jokes nor do I care to hear any. Clashing metal is all I want to hear when that gate breaks down. If it isn't heard, then I guess the sound of tearing flesh and screams will be. You have nothihg other than your lives to lose at present. If you will not fight to defend your city, then you will never fight. If you wont fight for your life and the lives of others, then you will never fight. If you cannot handle this small skirmish, then you cannot handle life. Hold your head up high and fight with honor and trust in your self. Fear only brings mistakes, and I am sure none of you want to be remembered as the one killed by an urgal because you were to afraid to kill it. Well men, get ready. I want the archers to my left, swordsman to my right, axe bottom right, spears bottom left, dull weapons top right, and those with a bit of this or that to the top left. Move." Everyone moved.
"You, who sent you here?" The black haired one had turned to face Petey.
"Murtagh. He told me Z wouldn't let anyone near the south gate so he told me to go helo the North gate."
"You don't seem to have met Z, so Murtagh must have told you about 'em? Kay then I want you to move to the top of the gate and get a position for your self against the enemy. If you were sent as a request then you must be able to lead your self. I'm Jon by the way." He turned back to the group an comanded people to gain formations and ranks. All the archers were sent up ladders and were told to shoot once and get down. Twenty ladders were lined up next to eat other. Ten went up at a time. The far right started the up, while the one to its left was the down ladder. This made it so all fourty of the archers could shoot and climb down without being shot. They all went at a seemingly random pattern. Petey just glanced over the wall and formed a quick understanding. There were about 600 out side the walls and for them about 135. They were scatered all over the town mostly at the gates.
He climbed down quickly as he realised this. "Jon, the enemy can just enter the city from the sides, while all of us sit like duckies and protect the gates."
"No they cannot. Z has multiple people gaurding all of the walls. There are about 67 of us here in total, and believe me that is a lot when it comes to us. Since there are only 500 in our fighting force." He turned back to the archers and taped each one. He had ten stay there and pretend to change and the likes. The others were put to the task of setting up another twenty ladders. They continued from what they did before only ten went back to the others and it became more confusing. They moved faster to make it seem like there were another fourty archers. It was perfect for a scare technique.
"Sixty five killed sir. We need more arrows."
"How many do you have left?"
"Just enough for everyone to shoot two more."
"I'll be right back." Petey turned and left he moved wuickly and arived back at his house in no time. He went over to his freshly made arrows. They were worth 2g a piece. Made more too look better than most for competition, though they were just as effective. He grabbed a large wooden crate. He piled 370 into one and 180 into anothe. He went into his closet where he kept his best arrows. 167g a piece. They were made out of the finest metals. They were for show, though they killed with 59 more accuracy. He pilled his last 50 into another crate. He grabed bolts for cross bows and grabed five bows. He got his horse and went back to the north gate. Just as he arived they had run out of arrows.
He walked to Jon and droped the first crate on the ground and the other in his arms. Jon raised his eye brow. "Town smith." Petey shruged and pulled out on of 50. "These however are made to look and work better than normal ones. They should be given to the targeters.
"That and because how much they are worth for an arrow right?" Jon went to a white stalion. He took down a beautifuly carved long bow. It reached from the ground over his head. It was made of an ivory like substance and had golden vines twisting around it. It was made by elves. He pulled a quiver down to and attached it to his back he pulled a glass arrow from the quiver. They were all glass. "Watch the duckies while I take a few down yeah? Thanks." Petey shook his head as Jon climbed a ladder with just his feet and by the time he reached the top he had allready let loose an arrow. He drew and fired them so quickly that he had killed five every ladder. He let his last arow go when he jumped halfway down the ladder. When he landed on the middle half he bound off to the left of it. Twenty crudely made arrows flew over the top and landed thickly in the ground and the surrounding houses.
Petey just raised his eyebrow this time.
"What? Not one from making trouble process? Boring adults." He rolled his eyes and slung his bow back onto his horses back. "Well they are advancing on the gate. Get ready to draw your weapon and fight." He moved to his horse and jumped on.
Petey moved the crates from the arrows and bows and mounted his horse. He had a war horse. Covered in armor the horse was frightening just to glance at. Its tan coat made it seem regal. It's iron shod hooves stood still on the pavement while his tail whiped once to signal he was ready.