Here's the Prologue to my NaNoWriMo and it's the 5th Book in my "Legends of Galria" septology. I hope you enjoy, and I'm looking forward to working on this one! :)
Prologue
A rush of wind blew past him and fluttered his long brown duster as
he stood in the middle of the empty road. The scent of decay wafted
up from the ruined buildings around him, and it was clear that the
village hadn't been inhabited in some time. When he took a step, his
footfalls echoed against the bare walls of the homes as his boots
crunched on broken glass and bones. The rings of his armor clinked
together with each step.
The remains of villagers, those that hadn't been dragged away by
scavengers or picked apart by carrion, had expired where they'd been
mowed down. Closer inspection revealed that many of them had limbs
severed from their bodies, suffered stab wounds in the back, or had
their heads lopped right off. Everything suggested that it was a hit
and run, that the raiders had come on horseback, and laid waste to
the village.
“What would bring the Legion so close to Sanctuary?” Dane
thought out loud, hearing his voice echoing back at him. There were
bloodied hand prints on the walls, long since dried up and faded from
exposure to the elements. “They've never left Olaraan territory
before.” With the Legion's capture of Olaraa, they'd taken over all
of its agriculture, stolen most of its technology, and enslaved
anyone who hadn't escaped the country before their initial invasion.
There was no need to harass the people living within Sanctuary's
borders.
Amongst the bodies were those of children. No one had been spared,
and looked like they'd been cut down while running for their lives.
Images of a time not so long ago, of a village much like this one,
flashed in Dane's mind. This destruction reeked of the stench of
orcs, but one thing bothered him.
“Why didn't they kidnap the children instead of killing them? This
makes no sense.” He looked around, at the total devastation wrought
by the Legion attack. “They took everything of value and ran. This
is definitely their work, but it doesn't look like the Fleshgorgers
were involved. Who's in command this time?” He brushed a few stray
strands of his long hair that had been blown in front of his face.
“The war is over. The Legion should be so disorganized that it
shouldn't be able to mount an offensive against Sanctuary again.”
There was a crashing sound coming from inside one of the buildings
that snapped Dane out of his thoughts. He instinctively reached for
Vengeance, the katana strapped to his back, and lowered himself into
a crouching position. It was coming from inside a two story shop to
his left. The half-destroyed sign that hung on a single chain read
“Maron's Lutes &” before the final word was cut off.
Dane approached the doorway cautiously, and drew his katana slowly
in an attempt to make as little noise as possible. He stood inside
the door, and gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light
before he continued. Once he could see a little better, he
side-stepped to the right, keeping the wall against his back and
facing the center of the room.
Channeling a bit of mana, he reached out and pulled the door closed
slightly with a mage hand spell, expecting someone or something to be
hiding behind it. Fortunately, there was nothing there, and he
continued on in his search.
Something fell from the rafters above and Dane jumped back, slicing
at it with his sword. He bumped into the wall, and once his heart
rate slowed, he realized it'd just been a corpse that had been hung
by the neck that he'd bumped into. The lower half of the body fell
lay on the ground, and maggots spewed from the cut Dane had made in
the flesh.
He swallowed the bile that was steadily rising in his throat, not
wanting to lose the breakfast he'd eaten only moments before
teleporting into the village. Get a grip on yourself, Dane! You've
seen plenty of bodies before.
Other than the body that had been hung on the ceiling, there was
nothing else in the room save for scattered and shattered parts of
instruments and furniture. Guess the Legion doesn't care much for
the finer things in life. No surprises there, I suppose.
Across the room was a staircase that went up along the
western wall, before it turned sharply and ascended into the
darkness. As Dane got closer, he found that the staircase had been
shattered and left the area completely inaccessible. If there was
anyone or anything upstairs, he wasn't going to get up there without
a levitation spell. Chances were good that there was nothing up there
to begin with except for abandoned living quarters, so he opted to
inspect a door that was nestled beneath the stairs.
As he moved towards the door, the floor creaked beneath him,
suggesting that there was a basement or cellar somewhere here. Could
someone have hidden down below? A door slamming shut could've made
the noise I'd heard, and it would imply someone running to hide.
Dane crept across the room, feeling and hearing the solid
bits of instruments break beneath his weight. He brushed aside a
cobweb and tentatively placed a hand on the door's knob. He took in a
deep breath and then tugged to try and open the door. Nothing
happened. It was locked firmly in place. Certain that there was no
one in the room with him, he conjured a little globe of light and
noted that the door had a lock in the knob that prevented it from
being turned.
If this town was raided, then this door should have been broken
into, he reasoned, looking for signs of forced entry but finding
nothing. Why go to the lengths to destroy this shop but not check
for valuables in the basement? He looked down at the floor, and
saw that the layer of dirt and dust that had formed ended abruptly in
front of the door. There must've been something hiding this
entryway. But who moved it?
Without any knowledge on how to pick locks, Dane was at a
loss for how to get inside. He called out through the door, “Hello?
Is anyone down there?”
There was no answer. Any pretense of stealth was already gone when
his feet started tromping on the floor of the shop, so there was no
use in not trying to communicate with whomever might still be there.
Dane called out a second time, but there was still no answer. With
no other option, he took a few steps back and pointed towards the
doorknob before snapping his fingers. A tiny bolt of lightning formed
and struck the door, its thundering crack echoing through the empty
shop. A sizable chunk of wood broke off the door and the frame split
near where the spell had hit, allowing him access. He moved to open
it, but it swung open without warning and nearly smacked him in the
face.
With his arms raised in front of his face, the long sleeves of his
duster fell away to reveal the gleaming mithril bracers on his
wrists. He crouched to lower himself in a defensive stance to block a
a weapon strike from hitting him in the face. He was expecting
something to attack him, but instead he heard the skittering of paws
as something scurried past him. He looked up to see a cat darting out
of the store. Dane shook his head at his own unease and decided to
get things over with and head into the basement.
It was dark and dusty, and he had to brush a few cobwebs out of his
face. Whoever was down here was either very short, or hadn't come up
in a very long time.
“Hello?” Dane called out. He reached the bottom of the stairs
and touched the hard packed, dirt ground. There were empty crates and
bits of thrown away food littering the floor. It was a storehouse of
some kind, probably used by the store's former owner while she lived
in the upper floor.
There were bones from meat, cores and peels from fruit, and even the
remains of a cooking fire strewn about in the center of the room. It
stunk of refuse, and it was clear that someone had been living down
beneath the shop. Flies buzzed in the corner, likely where the person
had been relieving himself. The smell was horrible, and Dane covered
his nose with a handkerchief he'd pulled out from one of his pockets.
There was a whimper coming from somewhere behind a crate. Dane
rushed towards it, but was rewarded for his zeal with a stab to his
stomach by a knife wielding child. The wind was knocked out of him as
the dagger failed to pierce his ring mail tunic, and he was grateful
that he never traveled without wearing his armor. He slapped the
weapon out of the boy's hands and the child flinched away from him.
Dane instantly felt guilty for his reaction, “I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to hurt you. Are you alright?” The child was a young dwarf,
young enough that he could've easily been mistaken for human had it
not been for the fierce, orange colored hair that was a hallmark of
his dwarven heritage.
“G-go away! This is m-m-my hiding place!” the boy tried to sound
defiant, but he was shaking visibly as he backed towards the wall.
“It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you. The Legion is gone.”
“I don't care! Go away!” the boy screamed.
Despite the child's fervor, he fell to his knees, unable to hold
himself up any longer. Dane could see the thin frame housed within
clothes that looked to be two sizes too small for him. It was obvious
the child hadn't eaten in days, and probably hadn't had anything to
drink for a while either. He rushed to the little dwarf's side and
lifted his head up. Grabbing for the small metal flask he kept in his
belt pouch, he unscrewed the cap and tilted the boy's head to give
him some water.
“Come on, drink up,” he whispered. “By Xenar, how are you
still alive after all this time? It's been weeks since this place was
attacked.”
The boy could only groan in response and turn his head away once the
flask had been emptied. When Dane called to him, the boy didn't
respond. His breathing was laboured, and he was unconscious.
Damn it, he thought, I don't want to do this, but I'll
have to take him back to headquarters so he can be questioned.
There's no other choice. If I can't get the information from him
here, I'll have to do it back home. And I really don't want this kid
around the Blackguard, not after what he's been through.
Dane lifted the boy up off the floor and headed upstairs
again with a sigh. He had the dwarf over one shoulder, holding his
legs to keep him from falling, while his other hand held tight to his
katana in case there were any other surprises waiting for him.
Teleporting back to Sanctuary is going to be too much for him to
handle. And it's going to be weeks before we get back to town on
foot. Ugh, why didn't I take a horse? Always rushing headfirst into
something instead of thinking it through, aren't you, Dane?
There was nothing left to do but start walking as quickly as he
possibly could. The boy's life depended upon it. If he didn't get him
to a healer soon, he could die.
The thought didn't rest well with Dane. He carefully sheathed his
katana, making sure not to cut the poor boy, then lifted him with
both arms before he broke out into a full on sprint. He kept the
dwarf close to him, holding his head against his chest so it wouldn't
roll around as he ran.
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