3. Natanya - A trip out of the way.

Natanya - A trip out of the way.


  • _Crouched in the mud, Leonard coughed blood and saliva, letting it dribble over his chin onto the ground. In the distance a war quiet down. All around him dozens of men whom he called brothers and friends, lay screaming or unconscious. The stench of open bowels and blood hung heavy in the night, their figures barely lit by torches.

    A girl which to his tired eye seemed angelic, offered him water. He raised his dry lips, his long hair falling in to his eyes as she pour from her canteen and then turned to bandage his chest. "Save it, I'll live." He grunted. He had killed many in battle that evening, and came out worse than some, but unlike most, he feared no infection, and salve and bandages where scares enough. One eye swollen, he could see her figure move between the wounded and turn to another. She was a sharp reminder that this grey night, some of the world was still untouched by the misery felt here.

    Marcus Dragonsbane climbed down from his stallion. Passing the reins to another, he strode over to the man, and stood. "You gave them a good bit of trouble tonight," Marcus said quietly. Leo straightened. His body ached but his superior would not see him broken, not with so many wounded lying so close, turning to watch them. "I did my best, sir." his spoke grimly, holding the mans gaze with his one kind blue. "It is not over. They have pulled in to the mountain, but they will be back tomorrow night, and we can not hold them again, not from here at least." Leo squinted. Was he seriously suggesting a retreat? Was all this death, for nothing? Marcus continued, as though he had read his mind. "We have bought the villagers another day, it will be enough to escort most of them southward. Tomorrow this land will be lost, but who knows how many hundred of lives we have saved." Leo nodded silently in reply, and Marcus placed a hand on his shoulder, his muscles tensing.

    He thought back on the reports of women and children being torn from their homes, and butchered. Some of the villagers fought back. As they traveled north, impaled bodies of the courageous few, held upright on man-size spikes, sagged loosely in the wind along the road.

    It was a bleak night to be surrendering._

    Well I don't pretend to be a good writer, I don't even pretend to be able to spell or understand grammar. But a stab of creativity makes you do silly stuff like, writing and posting stuff you likely will regret later.


  • Natanya sat easy on her horse, occasionally reaching down to scratch Mimir's ear as they climbed the mountain path. The warm sun, the scent of turf, the cooling breeze, everything contributed to a very lazy afternoon, spent watching the scenery or eating her fill. She stretched out her legs and moved her horse to one of the small pools that seemed to spring up along the road. A bird was hooting in the distance. She saw another pop up and fly low over the Heather before vanishing in some shrubs. She gave Mirmir a soft kick and moved back on to the road, returning to swaying rhythmically in the saddle, striving to stay awake and focusing on the view.

    Her mind drifted to the last hours spent in Peltarch.

    Two weeks prier to her departure, the temple had received a letter of some urgency. Sealed with the mark of a chalice, the symbol of the Order of the Golden Cup in Damara. Marcus Dragonsbane the grandson of Gareth, had requested aid of each neighbouring temple to offer what men they could spare in his fight against a new enemy threatening their Northen borders. Natanya had originally dismissed it. Narfell was still unclaimed land with constant battles fought over it's settlements. This was the year of the Orc, and Jiyyd was it's focus. Next it may very well be the drow bellow Norwick, she had mused. Peace was fleety. Peltarch spoke of peace, but it's walls, the new architecture, even it's sewage, told a different story. Her reasons for going had been more personal, than any sense of obligation. She had written back just a few days before departure and had not bothered waiting for a reply.

    The evening before, she related the entire content of the letter to Shannon. She included the way she would take over the mountain."..I am setting of to Jiyyd and following the road past Nobis. I will be staying the first night at Nar'Sek, before crossing the Giantspire. I hope to reach Steppenhall about two days ride after that." Shannon stayed silent and with the setting of the sun, she realising he had let her ramble on for a good hour. It was late and the scent surrounding the kobold hills filled her lungs and she stood for a moment just breathing in the evening air. He sigh, having listened to each word she spoke, but now just stared at her. It was uncommon. He was quiet among strangers, but lively enough in her company and those of his friends.

    "You unnerve me when you are like this" she added, softly. "it usually means your mind is elsewhere, or you are contemplating matters you are not prepared to speak." "Perhaps a bit of both" Shannon replied, sighing again, and turning to the dark valley. Glowing eyes flickered between tall grass. Occasionally they turned in the direction of their hill, taking notice but never approaching. "If you have criticism to give, then you know I am not apposed to hearing it." Natanya stated flatly, and little more pleading than she had intended. "No.. just, an odd time for you be leaving is all.." he replied hesitant. "An odd time for you to be leaving perhaps" she corrected him, "I have been lost at what to do for a while now." "And you propose to find it in Damara?" He snapped. Before she could answer, he shook his head lightly and continued. "I won't argue with your reasoning in the matter.. or your intentions…" he paused "Just a bit sad to see you go." Words also uncommon, and taking her unaware. "But you are returning after all."

    "Yes well..." She looked down at her hands and the package she was holding. It was a present she had arranged for him a while ago, but never found the appropriate time to give. Surprisingly, now seemed the right moment at last. "I got something to keep you company.. while I am gone though." "Eh?" He seemed startled and she held the wrapped up present, removing the cover for him to see.

    Natanya held up a tall prickly plant with black and white spikes, in a dirt-brown pot. His expression of astonishment caused her to bite back a chuckle.

    "It's... a cactus" he said.
    "I feared if I gave you a potted plant it would die and... you don't exactly come across as a puppy person"
    "Well it's a cactus in a pot, isn't it?"
    She burst in to laughter looking horrible ashamed. "I am sorry" chuckling still. He tilted his head and looked down at his new prickly present.
    "So.. uh.. where do I keep this?"
    "Your room? your office? Give it some water once a month and it will live happily on its own. It blossoms too."
    "Interesting." Shannon twirled the pot around, examining it. "When does that happen?.. Just so I have a goal.. without first killing it"
    "I do not know, maybe there is a book?"

    The laughter felt good, the tension was broken and awkwardness between them gone. She spread her arms giving him an open invitation and her most hopeful of looks. With a heavy sigh of resignation Shannon stepped forward letting her arms wraps around him in a natural embrace. Burying her head in his neck, she took in the scent and warmth of him. A fleeting moment later and with a stab of disappointment, she felt him eventually pull away and turning to face the valley again. "I will not keep you any longer" she whispered. "You're not keeping me against my will... Not if you are leaving for so long tomorrow."

    The next couple of hours were spent in idle conversation. The rain came and went, and when at last the cloud finally cleared, the sun was slowly making it's apperance. "I will miss you" she said genuinly, "you will always be my favourit critic" "I am not sure if I should smile or glare at that comment." Shannon replied, amused. She noted one of his rare smiles, and with dawn sobering her dazed mind, he apologizing and began his morning prayer.

    She sat in the tall wet grass watching him at first. This was exactly where she wanted to be during her last hours in Narfell. In his company. The only person who could stop her from going, and one of the many reasons she so eagerly needed to get away. He finished and they both seemed realise there were nothing more to be said between them. Natanya started on a good bye, but eventually decided on a smile instead. Without another word, she left him watching the view.

    At the stable a squire was grooming Mimir, her saddlebag filled with a weeks worth of ration and ready to be loaded to his back. She let herself through the city gate, and spent the last hour wandering the streets until she was lost and too tired to feel anything except numbness.


  • The sun in the Nars was now growing hot. It must have been about mid day, but the South Road, for which she was traveling, lay open and desolate as though it was still early morning. She reached the crossroad without having met a single person. The occasional hobgoblin had taken to sprint after her horse, but even they had been scares. After the first two had fallen, the rest seemed to just idle watch her from the side, not having the effort to make chase.

    She brought her horse to a halt and peered down the path leading to Jiyyd. In the South-East she heard distant drums of approaching orcs, the explosions of catapults, and shouts of warriors. She glimpse far and followed the line of the forest that grew along the borders of the Nars. She could see nothing of the war beyond, except for large black birds circled the air above the battle. They hadn't breached the first wall yet, she mused, it was still early hours.

    She dug her knees in to the side and turned her horse westward. The sky above was blue and clear, and the wind in her back seemed to almost encourage her to move onward. Up a slope she rode.

    No trees grew here, the Nars was a country of grass and turf, silent except for the whisper of the air, the howl of the wind and the occasional lonely cry of a strange bird. She climbed gently, but moved quicker, her horse frisky and her sprite eager now that she was starting to pass through less familiar country.

    Climbing still and with most of the Nars now bellow and half hidden in a veil of white haze, she found herself again turning to look toward Jiyyd. From here the world was at peace. She saw the outline of farmsteads and houses, the river that passed through villages lay as a grey contrast to the yellow and green landscape. Guessing, she convinced herself that she could see the faint line of the new wall. Up here there were silence. The only sound was that of hooves of her horse crushing against gravel, and skidding against slippery rocks.

    There was but one part of her journey she reflected upon with discomfort. A report had reached her hours before her departure, of both Lady Elenwyd and Sir Steelfin having been dragged off the battlefield. She had almost written to postpone her trip. To join the fight. It had seemed a little spontaneous and hasty, considering the preparations she had done the days leading up to this.

    She would have to press on.