I'm sorry I didn't update for the past little while.
Disclaimer: There's a reason it's called a fan fic.
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Chapter 5: On the Battlegrounds
Just arriving in the camp, there was next to no time to waste as everyone began to unload whatever they needed, pitch tents, and so-on. Nothing really exciting but what could be expected?
Exiting her tent, Alanna ran into George. "Sorry."
He grinned. "It's alright, lad. Th' Tusane dogs are on the prowl, keep a sharp eye out."
"Oh, I'll keep more than a sharp eye out," She replied, patting the hilt of her sword.
"Good." He walked off to Sir Myles tent.
"He's a mysterious one." She muttered to herself as she left to find her friends in hopes of a friendly spar. She found Jon and the others talking to someone she didn't recall ever meeting.
The dark haired prince grinned when the last member of his circle of friends joined them. "Alan, this is my cousin Roger."
The man smiled at her. "So you're Alan. Jonathan has spoken fondly of you. I am Roger of Conte."
"A pleasure," Alanna replied.
"What are you doing here, Roger?" Jon asked.
"I'm here to see how well things are going here and to report to your father if anything is erroneous."
Not finding the conversation all that interesting, Alanna turned to Gary and Raoul, "Any of you up for a sparring match?"
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The fierce cries of battle came sooner than anyone could have ever expected. The Tusane army had surprise attacked the group late one night.
A loud yowl at her ear and Alanna was sitting bolt upright and wide awake. She looked down at the ebony cat. "What?"
- You're camp is under attack. But if you wish to die then by all means, go back to sleep – Faithful replied, leaping off her cot and exiting the tent.
"Damn cat," Alanna muttered, grabbing her boots and pulling them on. Throwing the tent flap open, her eyes widened. Tents were burning, carved up bodies were all over.
"Alan! Behind you!" Someone cried. Spinning on her heels, Alanna narrowly missed being skewered. Drawing a blade of her won, she attacked.
Her attacker blocked it with ease. Grinning, he said, "This'll be easy."
"I don't know about that!" She replied, striking again.
The Tusane knight's blade swept around and the steel blade bit into her side. Wincing, it hurt, but she didn't back down.
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"How many have we lost?" Myles asked.
"Fifteen," Duke Barid answered.
Looking around, Gary asked, "Where's Alan?"
Turing to Barid, Jon asked, "He wasn't…" The Duke shook his head.
"You don't suppose he's M.I.A.?" Raoul asked, worried.
"We should look for him. Keep your blades ready, there could still be Tusane warriors lurking about," Myles ordered.
"Right!"
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Clutching her side, Alanna slowly began to head towards the center of the camp. The deep wound she had received was far beyond her healing abilities. She figured it would teach her not to under estimate her opponents from then on. Raoul and Jon came from behind a smouldering tent and upon seeing her were there at her side in seconds.
"Mithros and Goddess bless, we thought we had lost you." Raoul helped support her as they headed towards the others.
"We found him!" Jon called.
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Shewhorunswithunicorns: I know how you feel. Sorry 'bout that.
Stormrider7: Before you go scheming anything, know that I don't ever intend to write one. And frankly, I like breathing. ; ) As for anything A/G, you won't have to expect a relationship. And about war and fighting, this is the first time I ever wrote anything based around war so it might not be all that great but I'll try really hard.
Madame-S-Butterfly: I've got to agree with you there.
Nealschick: Sorry about the wait.
Dancer With Waves: Yeah, there'll be fluff. Not much but fluff's fluff.
