A fanfic (please comment)

[Hickory]

I was told general non-redwall fanfics are to go here...

Prologue

I look up from the field I am planting seeds in, because I hear footsteps. When I finally find where the others are looking, my heart sinks.

There are ten guards walking along the path, four of them pulling a wooden cart already heaped with food. They are here to collect their rations, as the guards of Unor are numerous and the bounty from their own fields is not enough to sustain them. Every farming settlement located along the main road is used, and a quarter of our total crops must be "donated" to the guards.

On the other hand, they do protect us from roaming enemies. Barbarians, raiders, other soldiers from the outside of Aranon constantly battle us, and it is only the guard that stop them from entering. They protect us.

We gather in the clearing, several men carrying out baskets full of maize, wheat, barley, and rye.  Women bring out pans of bread, covered with cloth to keep them warm. Boys wheel out caskets of fresh water, the liquid swishing around inside. People of both gender watch solemnly as the valuble goods were loaded onto the cart.

All the guards pile to food onto the cart, with the men helping to push the barrels into the holders on the side. After checking that everything was secure and helping themselves to a drink provided by a few kind women, they rode off to the next farming settlement, grim and foreboding as they collected the food that they lived on.

We return to the field, bending our backs under the sun, sowing seeds as it sets into the west.

[Skyblade]

Very good; I can tell you're creative

[Banya]

Awesome.  From your great descriptions I've got an idea of place/time and type of society.  It's clear your character feels animosity toward the guards, and I can tell something is going to happen around that.  I'd like to read the first chapter!

[Lady Amber]

Wow, this is great! Like Banya said, I'd like to read the first chapter, as well.

[Hickory]

Ten years later

Chapter 1

My name is Leonon. I live in the southernmost farming settlement, closest to Iriot, the port city. I am a farmer, like the other men in my town. I have grown strong and lithe over the years, and I hope to be inducted into the guard; anything is better than the life of a farmer.

Two years before now, the Lord Gerif from the south came in from the southeast. He claimed to be a long lost son of a Unor guard, and the men who meet him choose to let him in. Gerif was considered by the administrators of the cities; Loven of Iriot, Juno of Unor, and Defer, who lead the settlements. He was eventually made Lord and all Ruler of Aranon.

Aranon is a region in the lower north and upper south. Its fields and hills are fertile, and many farms sprung up. These soon formed into settlements. Some of these settlements had an abundance of resources, under and above the ground. Unor had tons of iron, and became a place of war, while Iriot was near the ocean and became a thriving seaport.

Immediately, a residence was raised for Gerif. He created a structered order for the guards; the lowest ranks doing run-of-the-mill guard duty, the mid-level officers guarding the administrators, and the highest officers ordered to guard Gerif himself. Most guards are kind and caring, but some, usually the food collecters, are mean and unforgiving. They became the terror of the road, and the farmers feared the day they came for the food.

The year after Gerif came, the attacks began. Barbarians and other outsiders have always attacked us, but this time they are attacking with more vigor. The guards fight gallantly, however, and there is still a long time before the attackers breach our boundaries. However, there are rumors circulating that Gerif made a deal with their leader, to jointly rule Aradon. With these lies going around, the land may fall to the enemy.

Right now I'm in my family's house, the stone shack that my grandsire constructed years ago. My mother is sitting by the fire, swathed in blankets. My father has not yet arrived from the field; the men are usually employed that farthest from the town. Our shopkeeper friend Thomas is in the small kitchen, helping my younger sister, Rose, prepare dinner, a stew full of leeks, potatoes, corn, and varities of crops that my family harvested from the fields. I sniff the air appreciatively and question Thomas.

"Are those chives I see you adding? Oh, don't spoil us rotten, Thomas, when Dad gets home it'll be because he smelled your cooking."

"Be quiet, Leo, my cooking never won anything. Those were the days, when I was but an apprentice to you mother; aye, she was the best cook on this part of the Road."

My mother calls out from the main room. "Shut your silly mouth, Thomas dear. If you were so kind as to cook for us, feed it to us!" Rose chimes in as she chides the shopkeeper. "Yes, Thomas, I've been standing here sniffing the stew for hours, it took so long too make. I need food after making a meal!"

After much argument and plenty of laughter, we sit down at the table, inviting Thomas to eat with us. Along with the stew, a fresh loaf of my mother's bread was sittting on a board with a knife to cut it. The clay plates and bowls purchased from the potter's had served us for years, and they don't disappoint us at this meal.

Less than halfway through my father bursts in through our door, soaked through. I now hear the heavy rainfall outside, and hope that the hard work we put in at the fields survives. Dad stumps across the room and hangs his worn leather coat on a hook, then gingerly takes his boots off of his weathered feet.

"Sorry that I was late, our secton supervisor insisted on planting the whole field. Have you eaten the entire meal?"

My mother gives an unusually high-pitched laugh and replys, "Evan, we would never. Here, let me pour you some." She takes a bowl and uses the ladle in the stew pot to fill the bowl. She hands it to my dad.

He takes a few sips, then looks at us.

[Mhera]

This is really good!

[Hickory]

Chapter 2

My father sets the bowl down on the table.
"Guards came along the path this afternoon. I was at the far reaches of the field, a long walk from here. They weren't collecting food, nor a patrol. They'll reach here by night fall."

Rose, Thomas, my mother, and I had no idea what he meant. I ventured to ask, "Dad, what does that mean? The barabarians haven't attacked Iriot, have they?" He shook his head.

"No, not at all. I fear for the worst; it's a recruiting party. Like I said, they'll be here around nightfall and recruiting men tomorrow morn."

I bit my lip. At the age of 21, I was certified as a man. Tomorrow, I would be double-marched to Unor, outfitted, then sent to the front lines. My mother didn't want this, my sister didn't nobody did. I went to bed with a knot in my stomach.

Sure enough, the next morning twenty soldiers stood in the square, a rapidly growing circle of men around them. Wives stood around the outside, some weeping, others stonefaced. Reluctantly, my dad and I strode into the circle of men, and milled around. Soon, more and more joined us, and then we were ready to go.

My mother and I embraced for the last time, and I caught a glimpse of Rose standing by the window, tears streaming down her cheeks. However, before the marching band even reached the gates, two guards pushed my father back. They said, "You're overage, sir. We advise you to return too your family." My father turned and left the group, striding home.

It was a day full of marching. Dust collecting on our clothes, making them sandy-colored and beige instead of the green they had been woven as. The soldier's armor was also covered in the stuff, but they washed off the dust with water when we stopped.

Lunch was a spartan affair, quick as well. Bread, cheese, an apple apiece, a cup of water and it was done. We were back on our feet, given only a brief reprieve between meals. In late afternoon, however, we were rewarded with the sight of Unor on the horizon. It stood like a majestic beast, the setting sun illuminating it from behind. As we got closer, several sharp-sighted men noticed another party moving from the city's gates.

Eventually, the two party's meet. My party joins with the other and we move into Unor. I notice two guards, probably officers, conversing. Moving swiftly through the marveling crowd, I get close to the guards.

"Ugh, these country bumpkins know nothin' 'bout marching. They were all over the place, only thing keepin' 'em in was the markers. Shoveled down the food we gave 'em, ungrateful little farmers."

"Don't be too hard on 'em bet some always wanted to be one of us. But I can't vouch for the food, we'll be running low now. Less workers those settlements have, less food we get."

"Agreed. Let's hope this war doesn't last long."

I slipped away.

[Banya]

I'm hooked.  This is so interesting, Sage!  I love how clear the emotions are: the humour, sadness, fear and hesitance of Leonon and his family.  I also love how you bring the politics of the situation into the story.  Honestly (I'm really excited), this is my kind of story.  I can't wait to read more!

[Hickory]

Still working on the next chapter...

[Hickory]

Chapter 3

Unor was... fabulous. The stone walls were home to plants and animals, herbalist were collecting the herbs, while hunters were taking birds, leaving a few to breed. Farmers entered and exited the city constantly, their baskets bulging with food. Guards in polished armor patrolled the walltop, while others kept a watchful eye over the passerby.

We were taken to the barracks, where we immediately changed into guard uniform. The armor was much hotter than I expected, but I kept myself from giving off obvious signs of my discomfort. After a brief talk by the Quartermaster, during which we were assigned to our bunks. Then, the guards escorted us to the armory, where we buckled on swords and strapped on shields. Some others, proficient in archery, were given instead chain mail armor, a dirk and a bow, complete with a quiver of arrows. I noticed it was at this stage than several people, having broken off from the main group at the beginning, had returned carrying bags that contained herbs. I realized that they had been assigned as healers, and they had a small red cross painted on their left shoulder plate.

We were led back to the main barrack room, where an officious-looking guard was standing in the middle. After the recruits went to their separate beds and stood to attention (after much prompting), he began his speech.

"I am Lieutenant Deran. You may call me sir, Lieutenant, or Lieutentant Deran. I am to hear and see no unneccesary conversation, insubordination, or rivalries between guards. This is Unor, and our fame for battle will not be tarnished by farmers.

"As you know, a war is occuring on our southeast border. Our losses our great there, so you have been recruited to boost our numbers. Because most of you have no battle experience, no prowess with weapons, and little skill in basic guard duty, your training will begin tomorrow. Report to the main courtyard. Healers, you are to head to the Head Medical Botanist; they will help you advance your skills.

"After training, you will accompany twenty guards and I to the war zone, where we will push back the barbarians. It is not like harvesting crops, or the training you will experience. It is kill or be killed."

We stood in silence as Deran scanned us, then, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed us. We saluted, then carefully took off our armor and got in bed.

The next morning, each of us found a scroll next to our beds on the floor. We picked them up and read them; some finding that they were reassigned to a different position, others finding that they were to be staying at Unor. Mine said:

Leonon Trandik.
Report to the main courtyard wearing your armor. Turn in your issued weapon, then proceed to pick a new one from the armory. You will be tested with several weapons; they will determine your final position. After that, report to Sargeant Pelej for further orders.

I sighed and climbed out of my bed, pulling my tunic over my body. Walking to the small closet, I buckled on the armor, while someone else helped my with the gauntlets. After making sure the outfit wasn't lopsided, I marched out to the courtyard with my fellow guards.
Sure enough, an empty rack stood by so we could hang our belts, scabbards and swords on it. After we did so, I headed to the armory and browsed through the weapons. Rapiers, halberds, spears, lances and javelins, bows, sabres, broadswords, all manner of weapondry. I selected a finely honedd spear and returned to the courtyard.

The corporal who was on duty to assist with training eyed me. "Ah, a spear, not many choose it nowadays. Care for a lesson?" The guard selected another spear and a shield, then tossed a buckler to me. "Try and get me!"

I fiented to his right and then jabbed to hs left, but he tucked the shield in close and defected the blade. During the seconds it took me to maneuver past the shield, he jabbed at my middle. It was only my reflexex that saved me from the strike. I swung out with my own weapon, cathing the corporal a glancing blow to the side. He winced, then retaliated with a jab to the shoulder.

I backed off, staunching the small wound with my hand. The searing pain from the injury lessened a little as the guard loosed the spear. With an expression of concern on his face, the corporal offeredd a hand to help me up. I accepted, grimacing. "Evidently I have a lot to learn, eh?" He grinned back, then directed me to an imfirmary. "Want more lessons?"

I nodded. He nodded back then said, "Name's Will. Will Tuth."

My heart lifted. I had a friend.

[Hickory]

Chapter 4

The infirmary was quick business, a quick comfrey puoltice and I was dismissed. Originally, the sickbay attendant wanted me to stay, but I told him the Sergeant wanted to see me. The moment the last word was out of my mouth, I was being pushed out back into the courtyard.

Striding across the stones, I spotted a small group gathered around Pelej. I joined in, milling about with the rest. Soon, a few more recruits came and then the Sergeant stamped his foot down to get attention. "Alright, soldiers. I'm not here to bandy words with ye, but to get you places. From now on, I'll be yer director. Need to go somewhere? Well, ye don't just leave. Check with me before hand. If I catch any of ye disobeying orders, the punishment will be severe. Am I understood?"
"Yessir!"
"Good. If ye picked a weapon other then a blade, you can leave the standard-issue sword and strap on a dagger. Archers, same for you."

Pelej watched us go about our chores. I picked up a leather belt and strapped it on. After that, I went with the rest to the forge, to pick up a secondary weapon. While we strolled into Unor, I fell in line with another guard, toting a spear. "Well, seems like you choose the same weapon as me."
The guard nodded. I watched it for a while, then turned may head back facing front. It came as a surprise when they talked.
"Yes, I suppose so. Though you'll have to get another one, the spear you have now is to short for you. Ah well, the forge attendant wil find one for you soon."

We arrived in the forge room. It was hot, but an open window let in cool air. The attendant guestered for us to choose a weapon. My eyes wandered over to where the daggers and dirks were. I evaluated each one, feeling the heft and balance. Some were for light, small wielders while others for those who barge in. I choose a dagger with a single-edged blade, the oak hilt wrapped in a leather handle. Freshly polished, it glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the window.

A voice from behind startled me. "Excellent choice, young'n. Not many have the eye to spot such a blade. Real beauty, it is."
I swung around. An older man was standing behind me, in his fifties. I contemplated his appearence; he wore thick, padded forge clothes. His eyes twinkled with a light that said he was still young inside. His hair was only starting to grey, its proper color a earth brown color. The man carried a sword, sheathed and buckled on. At the moent, he carried prongs, still radiating heat from the fire.
"Er, thanks. Pleased to meet you; my name's Leonon."
"Leonon, eh? Haven't heard that name in a while... ah well. I'm Kafer, the forge assitant. I've been working here for quite a while, but I'll probably be sent of with you recruits."
I smiled and continued having a little friendly conversation with Kafer. He was a jolly sort, he himself having been recruited from a farming settlement. He had lost his family before that, so he saw no reason to go back. I was torn away from him when the Sergeant yelled out for us to return to the courtyard. As we tramped through the halls, I thought over what I' been through. But anything I experienced now would be nothing compared to battle.

[Skyblade]

Great work Still writing more? ^^

[Jukka the Sling]

I haven't read this yet, but I'm curious: what fandom is this fic for?

[Hickory]

Well, I kind of thought LOTR, maybe a small kingdom of Man, maybe I'll introdice a wizard or elves later on. It's like a slightly advacned LOTR, with actual army ranks and such.

[Hickory]

Chaper 5

As it turned out, the guard I talked with when walking to the forge had a bed adjacent to me. When polishing my spear point (Sergeant won't abide messy weapons) I caught a glimpse of him. He had already taken off the confining armor, and I saw the blonde hair that was slightly long. With the metal garments off, the guard was found to have a slim body. A little too slim.

I had heard tales in the settlement of how desperate women seeking adventure and relief from being a housewife would cut their hair and leave with the men for war. I had never paid much attention, being very young an unconcerned with the problems of times long ago. But now I treid hard to think of them as I looked at the man. Or woman?

The next morning, I secured permission from the Sergeant to head to the forge to get the spear. He said I needed a companion; this was the perfect chance to get to know the mystery guard. Walking along the hallway and up flights of stairs, I talked to him.

"So, um, well, I don't want to be rude, but..."

The guard emitted a snort and inturrupted.

"Ach, you've noticed. I never expected to keep up the disguise for long, though. I guess you can call me Jan. I'm actually from Unor, they recruited older men and I found a way to join them. I've loved fighting since I was young; never saw why not. Hell, our leader's a woman. I specialize in fencing, it's really easy. I suppose I'm just swift on my feet. What's your name?"
"Oh, he's Leonon and I'm Will. Nice to meet you, Jan."

I whirled around at the sound of the corporal's voice. "Will, what in the name of stars and moons are you doing here? Shouldn't you be instructing someone?"

"Yes, I am. You."

I mentally kicked myself as Jan ckuckled next to me. Fuming, I responded to Will. "Well then, I'll get my new spear and we'll practice."

Will grinned at me and replied cheekily. "Oh, yes you will. As a matter of fact, I've already gotten it. Not to hard to size you up."

Jan added to the humiliation. "Oh yes, I'm sure. Leonon's shorter then I am." She yelped in discomfort as Will's speartip pricked her skin. "And you missy, better save those remarks and get your armor on. Bad form, eh?"

I pulled a face at Jan, then followed Will into the training room.