New story, and my first on this site.
Chapter 1: All is Not Lost
James opened his eyes as sunlight flooded in through the window. He quickly closed them again tight to give himself time to adjust. He had overslept by a long shot. He was supposed to get before dawn and start the day. Why his father didn't wake him up, he didn't know.
"James! Ye' slept in didn't ya! Get to work; you'll be working your fingers raw today."
"I'm already awake, I'll be right there," he yelled back, frustrated, even if it was his fault. He climbed out of bed and began to get dressed. After letting out a large yawn and one look out the window, he ran down the stairs to see his father.
Breakfast was already laid out for him, two eggs and a small piece of chicken. His father had prepared it. His mother died of illness not long after he was born, and since he was the first child, it was only he and his dad on the farm, which made things difficult. His father had gotten on in his years and James ended up doing most of the work. He didn't mind though, his father was kind and gentle, most of the time, and he was always a great man, it was the least James could do to help out.
After he had worked well into the afternoon he heard the voice of his father call out, "James, t'ere's a man here who wans a see you, ge' over 'ere."
James was very surprised; there was never a visitor for him. He ran back home with his bucket of water only half full, splashing everywhere as he went. When he finally got home he heard the man who was visiting and his father talking. He decided not to go inside just yet but crept around the side of the yard and looked through the window. He could just make out their voices from inside.
"It's only for a few years, at the most. If he accomplishes the mission, he'll be back in a few weeks time!"
"I've heard of those special missions, always more dangerous then being in the frontlines of a whole battle. Fin'shing the war in a few weeks time, I ask you?! Why him, he's not even experienced?"
"We need him because we need as many as we can get. Ah, there he is now," said the man who was talking to James's father. He was clad in full steel armor and had a large scabbard on his belt. In his hand was a piece of parchment, probably the royal seal from the King of Varrock himself. This man was very proper compared to his father, who spoke with the accent around the rural parts. James had lost track of mind, imagining his Dad in the big city, when he was jolted back to reality. "Why don't you come inside instead of spying on us through the window?"
James froze, they saw him! Even worse, they were talking about the war, and from the looks of it he would have to join the Varrock army. Falador and Varrock were fighting for power and both sides were going around recruiting people. This man definitely wanted him to join the army. He would rather fight for Falador, they're more likely to win, but he has no choice in the matter.
James slowly walked into his house and put the bucket down on the table. He first gazed at his father, who couldn't even look at him. Crystal tears formed at his eyes. He then looked at the man in armor, who didn't look fazed at all; he had probably recruited more people like him. All of the people he knew had already been taken off and probably slain in battle.
"James Farmer I presume?" said the man. James slowly nodded his head. "Good, you're coming with me, Varrock needs more men, and since Varrock controls this land, we also have all the right to any able bodied men here."
"What about the Duke, doesn't he decide anything?" asked James. Varrock was almost sure to lose this war, meaning he was almost sure to die.
"The Duke is appointed by Roald, meaning he doesn't have a say in anything if the king wished otherwise. You and four other boys are to come with me; we continue on to Draynor, hopefully to recruit a few more men. Pack you things, but pack lightly, you'll be provided with provisions and a weapon, only pack the things of utmost importance."
"Then I'm ready, I have nothing I need to bring. Let's go," he said reluctantly. He had a feeling he was walking to his death. As they walked out the door James could hear his father weeping, he didn't have to heart to look back at him.
It was silent as the caravan rolled down the road. None of the other boys even tried to speak. Mark and Merk, who were twins, sat at the back and looked out, waving good bye to their family and friends. They were both rather tall, and both had dark brown hair, but other than that looked nothing the same. Mark's face was lined with freckles, while Merk had a slightly darker complexion. They were both eighteen though, the same age as James. They were laughing and smiling, almost as if they thought this was a joke.
Across from James was Sakir. He was from desert so he was darker skinned. He had heard that the desert was allied with Varrock but he didn't expect to fight along side someone from Al Kharid. He was probably somewhere in his twenties and looked much stronger than the others. He was polishing a steel battleaxe, humming a tune from his homeland. He must have been one of the Al Kharid Royal guards. At the front of the caravan was Haddlin. He was an archer, and loved knowledge. He probably could've been a mage as well, but when James asked him about that he said it didn't interest him, no skill. You just hold rocks and say a few words. He was talking to the man in armor, whose name was Danik, about the battle situation, and where they would be attacking. That didn't interest James though; he didn't want to think of a battle at all.
"You're the new guy aren't you?" Sakir asked James.
"We all seem to be new, except for you."
"I wouldn't say that. I am one of the guards at the palace, I obviously know how to use a weapon well. Mark and Merk are traveling merchants, it would be unwise to travel abroad without any knowledge of how to protect yourself, and Haddlin is only here because he had just enlisted in the royal guard of Lumbridge. You on the other hand, you can probably plow better then us," with this he chuckled, "but you won't last long in a fight."
James thought about this. Sakir was probably right; everyone was probably more experienced than him at the moment. How was he supposed to keep up? He already figured that they were supposed to be a small unit. The caravan wouldn't hold many more people, and they wouldn't find many in Draynor, who were trying to keep themselves neutral. The Faladorians also outnumbered them greatly, and their battle tactics were far superior. We did have more resources though, the dwarves were on they're side, which was good. At least, that's what he could hear from Haddlin and Danik, assuming they were right.
"Sakir I wanted to ask you something, could you teach me how to fight. Danik gave me a sword, not a battleaxe, but I'd still like you to teach me something."
"Sure, I'll teach you a little when we stop at Draynor. I could probably teach you a little now. First thing, whenever you fight an opponent, especially one in armor, inspect the enemy, find all the weak points. In a one on one fight, neither person is eager to make the first move, so you usually have time to do this. If you've seen him or someone like him fight before, study their attack pattern. It can mean the difference between life and death. Lastly, never let your guard down; make sure your opponent is completely finished off before you even think about relaxing."
James now sighed. There was no way he would be able to do this while his life was in danger, he probably couldn't even do this in a practice battle. He didn't have the mindset of a warrior. Still, he had learned the basic strategies already and hoped he would pick up the actual fighting easily. He relaxed a little bit just to enjoy the ride. He had never really gotten a chance to look at the town, not since he was younger anyway. When he used to play with all the other kids back then. Everything seemed so much different then though. And as he got older, so did his father. He spent more time on the farm, and any time in the town was strictly business.
He looked back at Sakir, who was giving his axe an experimental swing.
"You seem… you seem familiar," said James as he looked at Sakir.
"Don't know what you're talking about, I've never left the desert until today."James thought about this. Sakir's face definitely looked familiar. Before he could focus his thoughts, they had just reached their destination, the small town of Draynor. They decided to make camp a little south of the village for the night, and tomorrow they were free to do whatever they wanted. For James, this meant brutal training.
"You'll have to do better than that! You've barely scratched me, and look at you, you're all bruised up. I know you're new at this, but can't you do at least a little better?" Sakir's words seemed to spark some ambition in James. James got back up and lunged at Sakir, who easily dodged the blow.
"I'll get you at least once, I swear," screamed James lunging at Sakir again. Despite what he said, he was smiling. He wasn't exactly having fun, but he already felt like he was doing better than he thought he would. Over the time of them training, which was almost all of the night, and now this morning, they had become great friends. James had already learned a lot, and was getting much better. Even so, he couldn't land a single hit on Sakir. James however, was beaten and bruised everywhere, but he didn't care.
James charged at Sakir, and thrust for his head. Sakir easily ducked below him and slashed at his knees. James fell to the ground in pain.
"These weapons may be wooden, but they still hurt!" screamed James.
"Then get used to it. In a real battle your enemies will be using real weapons, and they won't go easy on you because it hurts. There's no reason for me to go easy on you now if you want to be prepared for battle."
James looked around and for the first time noticed that everyone was watching him. Not just everyone from his unit, but all of Draynor had come to watch Sakir and him spar. They thought it was funny that James was doing so badly and laughed at him. Some people even threw gold coins at them, asking for more.
It was then Sakir made a mistake. He turned his back to James and waved at the crowd. James quietly got off the ground and ran of to Sakir. He made one quick slash to his back and Sakir fell to the ground.
"You said yourself to never let your guard down until your opponent is defeated. I wasn't done yet," James said defiantly and walked into the village. He could hear Sakir yelling something back, but he was too happy about getting a hit in.
James thought he would spend the rest of the day looking around the village. As he walked into the village a woman ran up to him holding a large sack of coins. "Hey you're the one who was fighting today. You did well. Take these, I have no need for them…" she said handing him the large sack.
"May I ask who you are?" he said staring the pouch of money she had just handed him.
"My name is Mrs. Schism, and I didn't think it was fair that your friend got all the money. In there you'll find one thousand gold coins."
James didn't know what to say. He had never held this much money in his life. "I can't accept this…" but she was already gone, she probably went home. He didn't want the money to go to waste so first he went to a man named Ned's house. He needed a new rope at home anyway, so he spent some of his money on that.
Next he bought a few toys, just for the fun of it, but he ended up giving them away to some kids, remembering how he would've loved these when he was younger. Finally he bought two jugs of wine and went back to camp. He gave one to Sakir who was already sitting there.
He was actually having some fun, between this and his training; he almost forgot he was at war. He always had a strange feeling though in the back of his mind that something would go wrong. He ignored it; he thought he was just nervous from actually being in the army.
But he couldn't shake the feeling. Thos gold coins were nice, but he couldn't get his mind off the idea that pretty soon he'd be killing. Killing others, just so some politicians could overseer a little more land. He was instantly turned off from the notions of glory from the knights in those books his father would tell him about.
"You did well today, you'll do fine in battle," said Sakir as James sat down to join him.
"Where are the others?" James asked him as he took a bite out of the meat.
"Mark and Merk are off playing pranks on the town folk. You may have noticed a bank guard hiding in a tree? That's because of them. And the wine all over the ground, that too. Haddlin and Danik are discussing battle strategies, and we're here. This is a small village and unfortunately there wasn't anyone who seemed fit to join us."
James looked around. There were many trees, by the river lumberjacks were making a living cutting down willow trees. After a loud crack, one of them fell to the ground, producing an even louder sound. The man gathered around it and cut it into smaller pieces to haul away. To his left was the long bridge that went to the wizard tower. He didn't like being so close to it, they were allied with Falador. Apparently they don't normally leave, but he still felt uneasy. It always smelt nice around Draynor, much unlike Lumbridge. His thoughts were interrupted though.
"Do you smell smoke?" asked James.
"Well there is a camp fire right in front of us," said Sakir laughing.
"No, not that. Coming from the village!"
James was interrupted by a yell of fear. He and Sakir ran back to the town.
A few ways off the road James could see the commotion. A white knight was off his horse a little ways north of town, and making a fire. James didn't understand why this was a bad omen, but before he had time to think, the man was hit in the head with an arrow. He looked to his right to see Haddlin clutching his bow tightly.
"Smoke signals, they'll be here in moments, maybe half a day at most."
"What?" James screamed loudly. He wasn't read to fight yet. He was being ignored though. Danik reached for his belt grabbed hold of a large horn. He put it to his lips and blew, a large deep sound echoing from it.
"Assuming they could hear it, Lumbridge will send us reinforcements. They can't spare many, but assuming the enemy will send a large force, we need all the help we can get."
"These people are ruthless," said Haddlin, although James wondered how much experience he had with dealing these people. "We should evacuate the citizens." They all agreed and got right to work. According to Danik there was a refugee camp hidden deep in the Lumbridge swamp, somewhere near the mines. Prisoners and men they had recaptured, as well as those in danger, were sent there. One of the jail guards in the area promised to get the people to safety. As the village was evacuated, the only people left were James's unit, the bank guards, and the jail guards. They were all stationed around the north and west of the city.
Another horn blew, somewhere in the distance. James looked up, expecting Lumbridge royal guard to be coming from the east. When he looked, he saw no one in the immediate area. A thick fog was slowly descending upon them, which James first suspected of being some wizard trickery.
"That…that came from the west, they are approaching. Everyone, be ready!" James tightened his grip on his small steel sword. As he took a closer look at it, he wondered if it would even help him. He didn't even have any armor, only Danik and Haddlin, and Haddlin's armor only consisted of rough leather. The jail guards were a little better off, but the bank guards looked completely out of place. They were all wearing a rusty brown looking armor, with the same type of material for a weapon. James didn't know what it is, but he had a feeling it wouldn't protect them much; he could only hope they could fight.
As they waited for the soldiers to approach, his mind went wild with all the things that could go wrong in the battle, all of them ending with his gruesome death. He shuddered after the last one, which consisted of him being tortured in the prison, and opened his eyes again. Haddlin, who was next to him, knocked an arrow and aimed towards the west. They were position to the north, and the most far west at that, so they would be the last to see an enemy approaching.
Haddlin's eyes must have been sharper than his own though, for he shot deep into the mist. Far away, James thought he could hear a man grunt in pain, and then the world went silent again.
"How did you see him?"
"I didn't, I wanted to see how far I could shoot, I just got lucky, now be quiet!"
James didn't have a chance to though, a white knight riding a pure white stallion came riding towards him, a few bank guards were chasing after him. This rider had obviously broken free of the initial defense.
Haddlin began running backwards, James followed suit, hoping the man would be disposed of with a single arrow. Haddlin shot and hit the horse, right between the eyes. It rolled to the ground as the knight jumped off it. Haddlin stepped back and motioned towards him, as if to say, "This one's yours."
James stepped forward and held his sword the way Sakir told him to. Study all the weak points. Let's see. He looks vulnerable under the arm, other than that-. His thoughts were interrupted by the knight lunging at him. James jumped to the side and was hit with a slash to the arm. He tried to deliver an uppercut to the knight, but it was easily parried and continued with a brisk hit from the pommel of the knights' sword. James fell to the ground, out of breath. The warrior came over and held his sword above James, ready to finish it. James closed his eyes and waited for it, but instead heard a loud thudding noise.
He opened his eyes to see two bank guards holding large maces, and the knight on the ground. On of the guards lifted off his helmet, and for good measure, let Haddlin shoot him in the head. Haddlin retrieved the arrow from the corpse and washed it against his sleeve, returning it to his quiver.
"Come on, this battle is far from over, and you have to put your heart in it. You may not be used to killing, but this is war. I saw a whole bunch of times the opponent was opening for a hit, and you'd have to be an idiot to not see them too!" Haddlin ran westward where the rest of the battle was taking place as soon as he finished the sentence, the bank guards followed.
James ran after him quickly. The truth was, James did notice some of those times. Haddlin was right, he just couldn't kill. Surely he couldn't be the only one like that?
He was wrong. As he went westward he saw the full scale battle. About twenty five or so white knights remained. Some of them seemed to have weaker armor, some had no armor at all, but they were all deadly, with giant swords that took two hands to wield. The jail guards were all but defeated, only a few remained. The bank guards had faced several casualties as well, but thankfully everyone in his unit was still alive. James ran into the fray and tried to spot someone he might be able to defeat.
He didn't have to look; he was confronted by another white knight. This one also looked strong, but was not wearing a helmet. Seeing this as his weak spot, James charged at him. The man slashed his sword downwards, which James parried, and returned with a vicious stab, hitting his opponent between the eyes. James withdrew his sword and looked at it, gleaming with blood, and then looked at the corpse, now lying on the ground. He just stared in disbelief.
"James!" His head whipped around, Sakir had yelled his name. An enemy was charging right at him. Sakir took a throwing axe and threw it. It missed the knight completely and nearly hit James. The knight stopped in his tracks, confused. Frustrated, Sakir threw another hatchet, this time hitting the enemy in the back of the head, piercing the armor completely. James picked up the one that landed at his feet and threw it, hitting an enemy knight in the leg. The man fell to his knees, which brought him a quick demise thanks to Merk. Mark was no where to be seen.
"This looks bad," yelled Danik, who was being pushed back while fighting two knights at the same time. James hadn't even noticed until now, the only people left were his unit and two jail guards, and the opponents, at least twelve of them. His heart sank.
"Oh lord Saradomin, grant me the power to slay these heathens, they, who claim to worship, but perform misdeeds such as this. These travesties shall not go unpunished!" James turned around to see where the voice was coming from. An old man was approaching them from the town. His frail hands tightly held an old but powerful looking staff. He went on: "They shall pay for their insolence." He reached into his robes and pulled out his ancient looking grey stones. He held them tightly in his other hand, pointing at on of the knights. Everyone in the battle had stopped, they were also confused.
"Saradomin Strike!" he yelled, much louder than a man of his age should be able to. A bright white light emit from his staff and flew towards one of the white knights. As soon as the ball of light hit him, he fell to the ground, motionless. The old man repeated the same words, over and over, and slowly the rest of the knights fell. As there were only a few left, they began to run away, which the man let them do. He turned around and returned back to the village.
"You still have the same opinion about mages?" said James, who was standing next to Haddlin, a look of pure awe on his face. Haddlin didn't say anything. Danik ran after him, but no one else felt like moving.
"Where's Mark? I saw him here a second ago, and he's not dead, his body would be here," said Merk. James looked around; there was no sign of him anywhere. The others were just as confused as he was until they saw someone coming down the road on a pony, holding an immense amount of cabbages.
"I got these from a farm a little ways west of here. Falador farm, I burned it afterward. They were very… generous though, to … give me these cabbages. These should last us a few days. As for the pony, a got it off a squire after he was defeated. Did you guys miss me?" said Mark with a smile. As aggravated as the others were, they couldn't help but smile.
"So here we were, in a huge battle, and you go get cabbages?" yelled Haddlin. "At least you were smart enough to get rid of the farm afterward; that should stop their flow of provisions a bit."
"We probably can't stay here long, who are the wizards aligned with?" asked Sakir.
"As far as I know, Falador. They're mostly neutral, but they have pledged allegiance to Sir Amik. We have no choice, if we were ever going to make a direct attack, it's now. We should rest here tonight though, we'll need strength for tomorrow," said Haddlin in a rather commanding voice. As everyone prepared camp for the night, Sakir noticed James was still a little shocked at what he saw.
"This is war. I'm sorry this had to happen, but it did. When you join the army, you have to expect this to happen. It's different though, when you do what most of us do off time. Haddlin and I guard kings or nobles, the only people who try to kill them are cruel. Mark and Merk only fight to protect themselves from thieves. But in war, especially over land, what side is the good side? Just because one leader makes the other one out to be bad, doesn't mean they are bad. Many people from Falador are just like us, just fighting to get by."
"I realized that. That's what makes it harder, because that means I will have to keep killing and hurting innocent people, just like they do, if I want to survive," said James, who couldn't even look up. He was content with staring at his feet.
"Who knows, we're planning a direct attack tomorrow, it will probably be our last day at this. Win or lose, it will be over tomorrow."
"How can you be so sure? Things happen, we may get held back, we might be stuck fighting within the city for the day. You need to be a little more realistic Sakir."
"And you need to be a little more optimistic, or we won't win. You have a point though," he paused, "We're planning to attack Falador directly and assassinate Sir Amik Varze; there may be a slim chance of victory, or us coming out a live. I'd rather not think about it, so just go to sleep. If not, I'll hit you with my hatchet and make you sleep," he said jokingly.
"Hit me with your hatchet? Just like you did in today's battle right?" James chuckled. This was responded the Sakir's boot flying into James face. "I got you, I'll go to sleep," said James who was still laughing. He still couldn't keep his mind of tomorrow but hoped he would find solace in his dreams.
