No Remedy

[Hjolnai]

The night grew cold, and the shouts and screams faded as the flames dropped from view. Corid rode on. His "political" ambitions broken, he would have to think first to survival, before any thought of vengeance could be attended to. He cursed the luck that had forced him to take the East road, for he could not turn South into the thick woods, and North lay mountains with a healthy populace of goblins and similar foes. Neither could he slip back around any pursuers, being a passable woodsman at best. No, he could only continue on, and if any bandits appeared, that would be no choice at all.

 

Hours passed, and as the Moon rose, he saw no signs of pursuit. Tired, hungry and drained by anger, Corid slipped from the road and into the forest. He tied his horse to a tree, and slept in his armour, wrapped in a thick cloak.

 

When he finally awoke, the Sun was high and his armour had left him almost immobile. It took him some time to prepare for another long day, and only the twin sparks of anger and fear let him move onward before more trouble could find him.

[James Crow]

It is short, and I would love to see more but right now I am left with confusion.

What was his political veiws, why is he angry, is there an early post of this story that I need to read? ??? ??????

Edited May 13, 2011 by James Crow

[Snypiuer]

I really like Hjolnai's work. It's filled with intrigue and ALWAYS keeps you wanting to know more - no matter how much is revealed.

 

Read Shades of Grey and you'll see what I mean.

 

I also can't wait to read more.

 

My question is:

 

Is this a continuation of 'Shades of Grey' or set in the same world?

 

THANKS for posting it!

[Hjolnai]

I intended to write more, but I haven't yet worked up the willpower. With Uni semester nearing its end (and exams), the few occasions when I can defeat the forces of Procrastination are mostly reserved for work.

 

This is not set in the same world as Shades of Grey, although there may be some similarities. This is in a more "standard" pseudo-medieval fantasy setting, so no mention of nuclear war, for example. Also, the basic rules of the setting will be different... if I manage to write far enough that it matters.

 

Thanks for the feedback, both of you. I'll try to expand on the story soon.

[Hjolnai]

In Corid's stiffened condition, every footfall of his horse brought another stab of pain. The sky grew cloudy as the day went on, and he knew the road would soon be deeper in mud than the lands around it, if the promise of the angry heavens was fulfilled. Still he continued Eastward, at as great a pace as he dared, for he knew that outriders would soon seek him.

 

With the noon long past, Corid thought he could see someone riding quickly, in the distance behind him. Pushing his horse harder still, he continued onward until the storm finally broke. In the sudden, driving rain, he turned North from the road, hidden by walls of water from any pursuers behind. He dismounted and led his horse until he found a short cliff, where they sheltered under a shallow overhang; not the safest of places to hide, but at least cutting some of the wind and rain. Searching the saddlebags, he found some dried meat which he must have forgotten stashing before his failed coup led to the flight of the last day; it already seemed a far distant time, but he was glad of that past moment's thought which at least partially satisfied his hunger.

 

The storm continued into the evening, and Corid removed his armour. He tried to keep it dry enough to help with rust, and was pleased to note that not all the beeswax protecting it had come off, but he knew it would not last if he was not careful with it. The greathelm, having stayed in a saddlebag, was no doubt safe, but the various other pieces could not be left wet for too long or they would easily rust. He was particularly worried about his gauntlets, which were expensive, intricate and difficult to clean, but he knew all his equipment could be at risk if he was unable to dry it, or in the longer term if he could. That last thought hit him - he had no idea how long he would be away from civilization. He could not go back home. He would have to wait, visiting villages perhaps, but no towns for some time, and he would have to be careful not to be recognised even then. His thoughts passing into misery matched by the outside world, he lay down and waited. Sleep was a long time in coming.

[Hjolnai]

The dawn was frigid, so cold that the mud was frozen solid. Beneath the layers of thick cloth needed for armour padding, and the windproof steel, Corid was not suffering badly even when soaked, but the cold brought other problems. While he could no longer risk travelling on the road, larger groups of pursuers and trackers could make use of it and find him in the woods, where the advance scout must have failed. With no easy way to get far from the road, through dense forest or dangerously inhabited mountains, he was running out of options, out of time, out of food and out of resolve. Adding to the fear was the waiting - he had no food left for his horse, so he had to allow it to forage for itself. Using that time as best he could, he came to a decision - he would risk the mountains, and trust in the fact that he at least was not expected by the inhabitants.

[Snypiuer]

As always, more would be appreciated!

[Peredhil]

Just found this. I too would like more. Engaging.

[Hjolnai]

Well, exams are coming up at the moment, but maybe after that I'll have time to write more. I wouldn't expect many pages worth of writing though...

[Hjolnai]

Choosing two mountains to pass between, Corid found his path more difficult than he had expected. It was too steep for his horse to walk straight up whether he led it or rode, and the slope would have been difficult even on his own. He was forced to seek flatter paths, passing from side to side more often than moving further North. He soon removed his armour - the cold was passing, and he tired quickly while carrying the weight. His horse could bear the burden more easily, perhaps.

 

Eventually, after some hours, he found a stream which had mostly flat ground alongside it. It was still difficult going - mud covered the banks of the rain-swelled stream, and tributaries blocked the path with some regularity. The tough vegetation held the ground together, but made passage even more difficult. Corid found himself drawing his sword more than once to cut a path, and it was rare when enough overhead space opened for him to mount up and rest as his horse forged on.

 

With the noon past, Corid almost felt he was beginning to enjoy himself despite everything. The sunlight brought vibrance to the green hills, and the stream was pleasant enough as it shrank on the upstream route. If he pushed away his hunger, and forgot for a moment his desperate state, it almost could have been one of the times he had travelled to some of the family's more isolated holdings with his father, Sodryn, Lord Steelblood, whose title had fallen to Corid... but that memory also was quickly pushed away.

Edited July 4, 2012 by Hjolnai

[Hjolnai]

As afternoon passed into evening, Corid saw a plume of smoke ahead. It brought a touch of fear - most of the people in the mountains would be dangerous, perhaps bandits, perhaps merely hunters wary of strangers, but all ready for violence. While Corid was as well trained as a young knight could expect to be, and armoured beyond what mere bandits could afford, numbers could easily overwhelm any warrior alone - if they were willing to accept some deaths in return. Still, he had no choice in his current desperation.

 

Passing the few thin flows which formed the source of the stream, Corid made his way toward the smoke. The ground flattened out, and he saw a thatched roof coming into sight. Perhaps it was the home of a mere hermit, willing to offer a meal and place of rest to travellers. Corid shook his head. No, with his luck it was more likely a witch, waiting to lure and kill unwary travellers.

[Hjolnai]

Corid cleared the rise which had hidden the roof, and found that his first view had been deceiving. Before him stood a large clearing, with a broad palisade spread ahead of him. The roof he had seen was clearly larger than a peasant's house, and was perhaps a hall or church, on a hill just ahead where it was raised into view.

 

Knowing he would soon be seen, Corid mounted his horse - best to make the strongest impression he could, and show no fear. He could see no gate straight ahead, but he saw only a small section of the walls from his viewpoint. The ground was also firm and clear enough to safely ride, which he proceeded to do.

 

Reaching the wall, Corid found the ground was mostly smooth around it. Passing along this flatter ground, he made his way to the left, quickly coming to a large door. Raising his voice, he called to the guard watching from above, who gripped a spear with obvious nervousness.

"Hail, good fellow, will you not open your gates for a knight on a quest of honour?"

[Hjolnai]

The village was clearly not a peaceful place. The men, and some of the women, were clearly hardened and carried simple weapons even as they went about their business within the walls of the settlement. Some were scarred or walked with a limp. Even so, the people were drawn to the sight of a nobleman, deeply contrasted to them with his heavy armour and noble's longsword. There was an uneasy tension, and Corid knew he had to forge the fear into respect rather than hatred - with their numbers he could not fight his way out.

 

At least the peasants did not directly question him as he led his horse (another clear symbol of difference - a healthy, expensive beast fed more on grain than grass) to the hall he had seen earlier. It would be easier to convince them of his benevolence through conversing with whoever passed for leadership in this backward settlement than through awkwardly addressing the growing crowd around him. He studiously ignored them, and counted it as a good sign that none barred his path or dared raise angry voices.

[Peredhil]

I'm enjoying this.

[GeldrinHor]

It is a good start, inviting the reader along on the journey, and expanding as the story grows. Please, do continue!

[Snypiuer]

ARGHHH!!! I've been missing this! One thing, MORE! Love ya' like a brother man, but, unless you're going to start writing stuff that sucks, instead of consistently writing compelling and engrossing material that makes EVERYONE say, "I WANT to continue this journey and find out where it takes me!" you HAVE to give us MORE! I know I'm being selfish, but you just do NOT give a crack-head a little bit'o crack and think it's going to be enough - you just DON'T!

 

So it's kind of your fault . . . I'm just saying!

[Hjolnai]

"M-my lord? What brings you to our humble village?"

 

A promising start with the village Elder.

 

"I am on a quest to regain my family honour, after a conflict with my Liege - Duke Brennor of Onaster - has left us with no fiefs or service."

 

Enough of that was true, if politically stated. A partial truth might also protect him from accusations of treason (at least in the minds of the peasantry of this meaningless little hamlet).

 

"Well, my Lord, if you don't mind me asking, what did you fight over?"

 

"That is not your business, peasant."

 

The last word had been a slip, but a little arrogance might keep him safer. He continued.

 

"While I am here, there are a number of supplies I will need. Feed for my horse, some honey, wax, food to last at least ten days. A crossbow, if there is one in this backwater village, and a shield."

 

"My Lord, it would be an honour to provide these things, but we have been through hard times. Perhaps you could help us in return?"

 

Asking this clearly made the Elder nervous.

 

"I have some coin. That is enough."

 

"Yes, my Lord, but if you could see fit to train some of our men to fight properly it would be a great favour to us. Bandits and raiders threaten our very existence! That will also give us time to gather what you need."

 

"Hmm... Very well, I'll put them through some basic drills. But in the morning, not now as it fades into twilight."

 

Corid was pleased at the opportunity, though he did not show it. He would gain status in the village, which might be helpful if he ever returned to reclaim his ancestral lands.

 

The conversation continued, and Corid knew his position in the village was safe.

 

As was his right, he was given the best room for the night - the Elder found somewhere else to sleep. A young woman, who he had not even seen before, slipped into the room (no doubt drawn by an idealised view of knights, or even sent), but he turned her away, knowing that to leave a child behind would destroy his credibility in the village.

 

The sun rose, and with it the village became a bustle of activity.

 

 

 

OOC: And now we have actual names for the town and its lord - they took me long enough to come up with...

 

There is one problem with writing anything actually good - once you've worked out how to do it, people want more (and I have been neglecting it far too much).

Also, this is probably the longest conversation I have yet written.

Edited December 1, 2012 by Hjolnai

[Hjolnai]

When Corid left the village behind, he left a number of bruises and even cracked bones. Though the training was harsh, the drills he had put the villagers through would leave them in better stead if they practiced regularly as he had admonished them. The satisfaction of finally having been able to hurt someone and ease his frustrations far outweighed the few bruises he himself carried, and it felt good to have everything he needed for his journey.

 

As he rode, he idly wondered how such a village had come to be, so close to the town of Onaster and yet so poor and unconnected. Even on the borders most villages would have regular training of the young men, and there would be at least a few experienced fighters with mail armour - even when the levies had been called in time of war. He discarded the thought - it was none of his concern unless he could make use of it if he ever returned. He turned his thoughts to the road, since bandits could be behind any rock or tree.

 

The days passed, and Corid met no one of significance on his lonely path. He found himself putting his losses behind him, and looking forward. He would find a baron or earl or duke, or even a King to serve, in the Geran lands before him, or turn further to the North and East, perhaps making his way to the Khitoi steppes and taking service there, where the backward barbarians would surely see the value in a proper knight. Wherever he went, surely he could make more of a name for himself than another might have, simply staying content with the lands of their father. Or perhaps he would become a famed tourney champion, not taking on the tasks of management of land for many years but being known through all the land? It was a pleasant fantasy, but he knew he was not such a champion. These thoughts and more occupied his mind as he travelled, and eventually made his way into Lower Gerania, in the lands of an independent duchy under the Redbridge family.

 

 

(At some point I'll need to go through and come up with a more standardised naming theme, area by area - including country names).

Edited April 16, 2013 by Hjolnai

[Snypiuer]

I find that I, myself, end up having to go back and figure out why I gave certain names to certain places, people, etc. in order to make the story uniform. Yours, seems to be pretty cohesive. Shouldn't be that hard to tie things together.

 

This is one of the stories I ALWAYS read - sometimes it takes a while to respond, but I ALWAYS read EVERY addition.

 

My one critque is the usual. You NEED to write more!