I'd like to know what some others of you think about my writings in my story, The Black Fountain. It's an epic novel I've been working on for some time now, and the selection you see is from Book II: The Darker King.
I'd really just like to know how some others will react to my writing as I continue. So if you read this just tell me what you think and offer some advice.
Chapter XIX
Captured
There they were. The Quad Squad lay beaten in a puddle of red blood that stained the green grass below. There was Tank with a large puddle of blood and to the side was Lock with no blood around him at all. Yet he was dead. And there was Derek and Fradox, a dagger in Derek’s hand and twenty or so arrows protruding from Fradox’s chest. In the middle of all the death there was Tanzarian, but he was not dead. His eyes were wide open, a smile upon his face.
Then Tanzarian opened his eyes violently. Sweat poured from every inch of his face drenching every inch of his neck and shoulders. He looked to his left and gazed toward the right. The rest of the Quad Squad lay sleeping peacefully. “A dream and nothing more…”
Slowly the Quad Squad began to awake. The Quad Squad currently lay beaten on the edge of the now captive, and extremely dangerous, Serta Forest. Only a hundred yards northward were the Ruins of Karnok, the place where all the trouble had begun. To all other sides of them there was a grassland that was rough and rugged with high grass shooting up every here and there.
“Come fellows…” Tanzarian said to the others. “We continue.”
Tanzarian tried to smile, but couldn’t, then walked directly southward.
“Is that it?!” cried out Derek. Tanzarian stopped in place and unwillingly turned. This is what he’s been afraid of. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
“Well what else needs to be said, Derek?” Fradox brushed shoulders with Derek as he passed to meet Tanzarian.
“You know precisely what I’m talking about! Everyone here does!” Derek’s face was contorted in such an evil way now, that none of his friends recognized him. “You betrayed us! You’ve been leading the goblins to us the entire time! I knew! I always knew! Had there not been someone to always protect you you’d be dead by now!”
Lock, with a worried face, sidled by Derek with the enormous Tank at his side. Together they joined Tanzarian.
“Derek, you don’t even know what you’re saying! I did nothing of the sort and everyone here knows it!”
“Oh, sure, Fradox! How did the meat that Tanzarian told you to put away, end up tied to a stake in our clearing!? Could you explain that one to me, bard?!”
“I didn’t put that there! I don’t know who planted that, but it wasn’t me!”
Derek stormed up to the rest of the Quad Squad who remained silent. “That’s why he’s been sulking around lately! He’s been planning this ever since we left! Probably figured he’d at least have a bit of fun at our expense before he dies himself out here!”
“Derek…” said Tanzarian weakly. The bite that the venomous snake had inflicted into him was searing with pain often. He had not the strength to be a leader anymore. “I trust that Fradox did not put any of that meat anywhere, because I know that he wouldn’t betray us.”
“Oh, yes, Tanzarian, very good then! Take his side won’t you!? I suppose you’re in league with him! What about you two oafs, huh?!” Derek spat out at Tank and Lock. “Are you planning to kill me tonight, too, Lock?” Lock began to cry a little.
“Derek, stop it! Look at what you’re doing to the Quad Squad!”
“What I’m doing?! You’ll be the ruin of us all! The ruin of my father’s Squad as well!” Derek drew a dagger from his belt and rushed at Fradox, blade ready to kill. Tank’s long arm barred Derek’s path and with a flick of his finger he knocked the blade away. Derek backed off quickly and shook the dirt from his elvin boots. “He won’t protect you forever, Fradox. Coward can’t even speak…”
Some time passed then and an hour the party had been continuing south. The group was led by Tanzarian who weakly limped forward, hurting with every step he took. Behind the leader were Tank and Lock side by side, never saying a word. Proceeding was Fradox angrily marching and far behind any of them was Derek, dagger in hand. Had the Quad Squad been dead before, surely now it was rotting.
And then all hope of escaping Sinnett was lost. It was midday now and the party had been continuing when a horse drawn carriage came speeding into sight. Leading the carriage, wearing an arrogant smile and straight line of teeth was a tall, muscular elf with blonde flowing hair. With a bullwhip he cracked at the pure white horses and yelled in the old elvin cry, “Sped”, which means speed.
Of the elve’s language, it must be said that it was not commonly used. In the beginnings of Deckbin, men, dwarves and elves all lived together in nomad-like packs wandering the barren surface in the search for food. With all the races living together, one language was formed and was used universally by any intelligent being in Deckbin. The elves, however, had their own separate language, as did orcs and dwarves, that was seldom used. The elves, proud as they were, still liked to mix in a few elvin words every now and then.
The whip cracked and the carriage sped towards the Quad Squad, but they did not run or even move. They all just stood where they, each of them knowing that this fate would have come to them eventually.
The carriage screeched to a graceful halt in front of the men and from the insides of it came out six burly elves. They each grabbed one member of the Quad Squad by the wrists and securely fastened red silk tightly in a knot around them, afterwards fastening a blue knot to their legs. To elves were needed to bind Tank, weak as he was, but they needn’t had done so, for Tank didn’t struggle whatsoever when he was bound. He just didn’t care anymore.
The carriage driver stepped out in front of the captured squad and smiled. This elf was a top leader of Sinnett’s army called Commander Tell. Tell brushed the dust of his arms and then surveyed the men, smiling.
“So then,” he started aloofly, “you are the men whose army was last spotted in Glenensil, eh? Well… I believe you know why you were captured?” Nobody said a word.
“Ok, then. The elves no longer allow anyone into our lands who is not an elf. So, you three are in direct violation.”
“Us three?” said Tanzarian, but shortly after he realized his mistake. Himself, Fradox and Tank were the only ones in violation. Derek and Lock were both elves.
“Yes,” laughed Tell, “unbind those elf-friends, goons. You other three…” Tell looked at the men in disgust, “will be graciously granted a trial in Silibell under King Servius. The trial may take weeks, so for now you will be held as elf captives in Green Town in the Sunny Valley. You two elves, I will get the pleasure of meeting on the carriage ride home. Oh, and yes, you two will be allowed to testify for your friends once the trial arrives, so… Well, I don’t think anything needs to be said about these hooligans, now does there?”
Tanzarian shot a look of hope at Derek. With only his eyes, Tanzarian could communicate with Derek. Those eyes were full of hope that everything would turn out all right in the end, as Tanzarian had always hoped. But Derek’s eyes, Derek’s were filled with doubt.
Three hours after the capture another carriage arrived that was to carry the three men to Green Town. The goons roughed the prisoners up into the carriage, which the three now thought of as a good thing. At least they wouldn’t have to walk. Derek and Lock were both presented with new, elf garments, to replace the old men’s clothes they were garbed with. On the side, Commander Tell presented them each with new, steel daggers that were curved in shape.
Sitting now in the luxurious coach was Tell with Derek and Lock sitting across from him. The entire carriage was outfitted in bright green, the outside completely white, being drawn by two pure white horses, like Fantasy. The elves were a race of their beauty.
“Uh, Commander Tell, sir…” Lock had been trying to get the courage to speak, “you said that our friends would get a fair trial, right? So then, they can be released, right?”
“Well, legitimately, yes,” replied Tell. “I can level with you two though, being elves yourself. Chances are they won’t survive the trial. I were you, I’d be happy being spared.”
“I am,” came in Derek smiling ear to ear. “One of those men I would never stand up for, the one with the white shirt named Fradox…”
“Oh, yes…” came in Tell, “the one with the odd look about him…”
“That’s the one. He betrayed us all in the Serta Forest, leading us to the goblins. That…! Well, I guess he’ll be justified…”
“But Derek!” cried Lock sacredly. It was only now that he began to fear Derek. “Fradox didn’t betray us! That meat could have been left as a trap for the goblins!”
“Yes,” Tell butted in, “the goblins are posing to be quite a problem for us, Derek. They have been roaming in packs now around Sinnett. That is why we are on top guard, what with a war starting.”
“War here as well?” Derek said.
“That is what Servius says. He is our new king, you know. Old one didn’t have the gall to run an army. Since Servius is been running the show, things have gotten better. A lot better.”
“We met with the goblin head himself, Commander,” said Derek. “Name was Fornig, said he was going to destroy the elves… We can stand against them right?”
“We are hoping,” replied Tell. “But let us not worry only of these matters. Why not tell me of how you came to be stuck with those filthy men…”
“Filthy!” cried out Lock. “You see here, Tell!”
“Lock!” Derek said in a hush. “I will handle the rest of them… For now, we get Tell and the elves to trust our decision… Uh, don’t mind my friend, Commander. I think the men have him brainwashed a bit.” Derek winked at Lock and this gave hope to Lock. Derek it seemed had a few tricks left up his sleeve, thought Lock. He’s going to win over the elves so that when he tells them that Tan, Tank and Fradox are innocent, they will respect his judgment and let them go. This is what Lock thought.
It wasn’t a long journey led by four speeding horses, so only three days passed until the men’s carriage was stopped in front of an inn in the center of Green Town. The men were wrestled out of the coach by the burly elves, which proved a bit harder this time; the men had had a rest the whole three days. Through the streets of Green Town went Tanzarian, Tank and Fradox with stares and curses from the elves, while the men simply tried to look away; as if nothing was happening at all. And in the town square, where the prison building was, went the captives. Up a stair of white wooden planks they went until they entered the dark and dank inside.
Green Town was like any other town in Deckbin at the time. It was small and homely, but that feeling seemed to wash away with these current times. The town was located in the Sunny Valley, which was long known for its combination of elf and men inhabitants, and not far from Silibell, the elve’s capital. At times such as these, war mongering times, the town was almost always wrapped in a fever of disillusion and paranoia. The men that called the Sunny Valley their homes were on edge; men like Tanzarian’s party were being taken captive in larger numbers recently. How long would it be before they themselves were prisoners as well?
The men didn’t awake until Tell rattled the bars of their cell and called out to them.
“Hey! Listen up, men. I just dropped the good-elves off in Silibell where they will be staying from now on. I also spoke with King Servius, himself. I’m a top advisor to his court, you know. Anyway, I spoke to him and arranged a trial, or tried to arrange, I should say. Servius claims that you will be tried, fairly, mind you, in the coming weeks or months. Until then, you are prisoners of the elves as a result of trespassing and will remain here until that trial occurs.
Tell smiled maliciously and stared into the men’s cloudy eyes. He was enjoying every word that left his lips. “This is Gunther, the bailiff. He will be watching you and minding you until your relocation. I suggest you enjoy these few weeks you have left, men.” Commander Tell s******ed and turned on his heel. He shook hands with Gunther, a man, and then walked officially out of the door and into the Green Town sunlight. Then the door shut behind him and the darkness returned.
Gunther himself was a short, chubby sort of man with the top of his head bald and graying brown hair surrounding his edges. His face was pulled together and tight, though his cheeks stuck out a bit. His legs seemed fit enough, his arms were brawn and his shoulders broad, and so he had an odd look about him. Though he appeared unfit, he also had a fighter’s look.
“So then, the elves got to you too, eh?”
Tanzarian was sitting with his back against the far wall next to Fradox while Tank sat with his legs crossed and his arms folded, like always, in the darkest corner of the cell.
“Shame, it is. A disgrace, I say. Men have been protecting those elves since the kings split out of the Mok Forest in ages past.” Gunther hobbled over to the cell and looked in.
“You think that trial will be the end of you?”
Tanzarian looked up from where he sat, his ankle still bulging with pain, though it had lessened now that it had time to rest. “We all hope that our elf friends will stand for us… Well, I know they will. I think we will be safe if they testify for our sake.”
“Testify for you three?” said Gunther in disbelief as he chuckled. “Sorry, friends, but what makes you think they’re going to do that?”
“We’ve been together for years now, those elves and us. Never would any of the two betray us.”
“Sadly, Tanzarian,” said Fradox in a hush, “one of them already has.”
Tanzarian turned to Fradox with a hard face, but he couldn’t argue with Fradox now. Or could he? “Fradox,” said Tanzarian annoyed, “I want you to tell me whether or not you put that meat there.”
“You said you believed me,” came in Fradox, his voice rising.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore, alright?!”
Fradox then got up and sat in the second darkest corner.
“Uh,” came in Gunther, “I’m sorry about your troubles. I got plenty of my own, thank you, though. I heard about the Yoct Army. Shame it was, having a forty year run end in a mutiny. I just hope my boy had nothing to do with it. In fact, I’m expecting old Goater home any day now, now that the war’s over. I hope that pushing him into the army straightened him up a bit.”
“Your son was in the Yoct Army?” said Tanzarian.
“Yes, he was,” replied Gunther proudly. “And what were you enlisted in?”
“I am the leader of the Getrau’ Army, of the Militan Military. It is because of your men that we are locked here in the first place.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, sir. The point is the war’s over. Gonz failed. Now these elves, all of them fearing some attack by goblins, are getting restless; all lies to me. You know, it’s been the last few weeks here in little Green Town that I’ve learned something. We men have to stick together like brothers. This war that’s been going on between Yoct’s men and the Militan, well it’s just weakening us, you know? If it was up to me I’d let you go and you could go back to wherever it is that you came from, but if them elves did ever find out that you were missing, then it’d be my head.”
“I don’t want you to set us free… We’ll be all locked until that trial…”
“What do you men by that?”
Tanzarian thought a while, but never replied. He didn’t care much for this Gunther character.
“Get up. All of you!”
The men found themselves awake now. It had been a week in their prison and already Tell stood wearily outside the cell with a long elvin rapier in one hand and a primitive club in the other.
“Gunther, release them quickly!” Gunther stared blankly and with a touch of anger towards Tell. He was still too proud to take direct orders from the elves.
“Why should I?”
Tell’s face didn’t change. “Why?! Have a look outside won’t you?” Gunther ran off to the door of the prison which was wide open, a dark-red sky through it.
“What’s going on?” asked Tanzarian commandingly. “Why do we leave so early?”
“It was not my decision. Nor was it anyone’s. There is some trouble that causes your early departure.” Tell was trying hard to stay calm. “Where is Gunther off to?!”
Gunther came galumphing back into the prison hall with a sweat beaded face and wide happy grin. “The men! There’s a riot against the elves! They’ve finally done it!”
Tell drew the rapier straight to Gunther’s happy grin. “You are with them then?”
“Well, I am a man aren’t I?” Gunther’s hands struggled themselves into the air.
“Release the men and go to my carriage just outside the town square. Trem Street.”
“Why should I?”
Tell pressed the rapier against Gunther’s trembling throat, sweat dripping down his red face. Firelight shone through the open door and shouts of terror and war were heard out and about the town square.
“I will cut you if not you depart! Now, go!”
Gunther’s face hardened, but it wasn’t enough. The pride of this man was no match. He drew a sword from his side and took off for the door. In the landing he turned and yelled back, “Next time bring a real weapon, instead of your skinny knife!” Then he disappeared into the rage outside.
The keys had been slipped to Tell, noted Tanzarian as the stoic, blonde elf opened the latch. As the three men poured out of the cell he quickly cut their ropes and gave Fradox and Tanzarian small swords.
“What of Tank?” asked Fradox. “What weapon do you have for him?”
“I have no other. Now follow closely by me and we’ll make our way through the madness.”
“What madness, Tell? What’s going on?!” Tanzarian demanded answers.
“The men of Green Town have rebelled against Sinnett and the laws of Servius. They have begun to riot in the streets killing any elf or any man in league with us. Foolish, Gunther, though proud is in grave danger. The men have him marked as a traitor. And you three are too important to Servius to be freed now, so we leave for Silibell and safety.”
Tanzarian, Fradox and Tank all stood weary. Fradox looked at the door, red with flames. An arrow, flaming, had struck it and the fire crawled its way into the prison.
“There’s no time left!” Tell shouted. “Stay close to me and you will find yourself in no harm!” Tell jumped through the flames and entered the steps in front of the prison.
“Come!” Tanzarian took the lead and took off through the flames with Fradox and Tank right behind him. Then they saw it. The town square was full of a hundred men it seemed, fighting a hundred elves. Fires had been set to almost every building and arrows flew without aim. Tell stood stoically at the base of the stairs. Tanzarian ran to him.
“You call this a riot? This is war!”
“So be it! Call it what you will, but either way we are all going to lose our lives!”
Fradox ran up to them with his sword in hand. “How do we get through?”
All three of them turned then to see Tank with anger in every hard scar of his face running down the stairs, weaponless, and into the sparring crowd. He bashed into the bodies and as he did, they fell. He was clearing a path.
“Follow him!” yelled Tanzarian. Tanzarian took the path that Tank was cutting. Tell took stead in the path as he was followed by Fradox. As Tank bowled his way through the battle, swords cut at him. A slice went across his left arm as he howled in pain. An arrow struck him in the shoulder, inches from his neck. Cuts went through and through his hard body as he kept
pushing. And in his path, they followed.
Tank pushed a large man over and turned to find another arrow piercing him through his right arm, one that was already bleeding terribly. Tell saw a man coming and sliced him with his rapier, blood shooting out over Fradox. Fradox turned then and saw a large, mangy looking man heading for Tell. The man notched an arrow and fired it with speed to Tell’s face.
But the arrow did not strike. An inch from his forehead, the arrow halted; suspended in midair. Tell looked mystified in Fradox’s direction. Fradox simply nodded and pushed him onward. Tanzarian’s sword found its place in an elf approaching and as it did, it also landed in that of a man. These four were the ones without a side.
Tank would not stop pushing until he was through the crowd. And as he neared the end, he found himself howling in pain from the wounds he received and just could not go on. He fell.
Tanzarian, who just pulled his sword from a crazy elf, looked to the ground and saw a lifeless Tank.
“Tank!” Tanzarian ran to him and tried to lift him as war ensued above him. He prodded at Tank’s body, but it would not move. He was motion less. Ahead, only yards away, was the street and Gunther was waving to them from the carriage.
“Help me! Help me lift him!”
Tell ran past Tanzarian’s hysterical, tearing face. Fradox came to Tanzarian’s side and struggled alongside him trying to lift the massive being. But he would not budge.
Tell got up to the carriage and jumped inside. “Go you fool! Drive us off!”
“What of the others?” asked Gunther.
“Leave them! I will not lose my head over these dirty captives!”
Gunther looked at them in the war crowd. A large, dark man was lying on the ground and two others tried to lift him. They tried to save him. Gunther turned to Tell and spat at his feet and took off towards the crowd.
He reached Tank and grabbed onto his limp body and drug with all his might alongside Tanzarian and Fradox. Tank began to move. They heaved and breathed heavy as they moved the mammoth of a man out of the war area and into the alleyway where Tell stood gaping. Tell stood unbelieving.
Tank was clear of danger and out of the fray. They all saw his body then. He had cuts from swords everywhere, blood staining all of his clothes. He had an arrow, half broken now, sticking out of his left shoulder. Another arrow was lodged firmly in his right arm. His eyes were open now, bloodshot. Tanzarian held his head and tried to hold back tears.
“Tank! Tank, don’t pass… Don’t leave us when we are so lost…”
Tank did not speak. Fradox had tears streaming down his face as he turned away in shame. Gunther then felt something cold on his face. A lone tear had run down his scarred cheek. He never remembered crying. The man went up to Tanzarian and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s gone, my boy. He died saving you all. His death was not in vain…”
“He isn’t dead!” cried out Tanzarian hysterically.
Gunther frowned and another tear fell. “Come now, boy. Get yourself to the cart, before you find the same fate he did.” An arrow whizzed by Gunther’s head. Fradox yelled out and turned for the cart.
“No! Listen, he isn’t dead!”
Fradox took a dead man’s shield from the ground and blocked an arrow as it came for him. Four elves were trying to stop the departure of Gunther and themselves. “Come, Tanzarian! Leave him!”
Tanzarian, teary-eyed, looked down at Tank’s lifeless body. Was this the end for Tank? The end of a man, stricken by his own past, scarred so much that he had lost the ability to speak. Tank may have lost that, but he could feel more than any. Tanzarian’s face was drenched in the tears of his fallen comrade. He turned and saw the rest of them already on the carriage, the battle moving towards the alleyway.
Tanzarian heaved himself up and flew to the carriage. Tell shouted out and the horses took off. Gunther and Fradox turned. “What are you doing!? We haven’t got Tanzarian!”
“Leave him to die with his friend! We have to leave!”
The carriage took off and a group of elves, twelve or so chased Tanzarian down the alley as he chased the carriage himself. Arrows shot by and barely missed. Tanzarian ran down the alley as fast as he could, for only seconds though, when another group of men came off the street in front of him.
“Go!” they called. The group of men all readied arrows and shot half of the elves dead. Tanzarian turned and drew his sword. “No!” one man called. “Get to that carriage!”
Tanzarian nodded and took speed off to the carriage. Down the dark and foggy alley he finally met it stopped at the edge of Green Town, wide open grasslands of Sinnett ahead.
He waltzed up and saw Tell bound by ropes, and a nasty cut across his eye in the carriage, with a smiling Gunther next to Fradox. Tanzarian tried to smile as he met the two, but he couldn’t. The death of Tank was too much for him.
“Our friend is dead, Tanzarian…” Fradox and Tanzarian stood looking at the dark sky above. The carriage was safe for now, it seemed, as Gunther tended to a small fire.
“I know,” came in Tanzarian. “He died saving us. He died to save scum like Tell. But that was the nature of our friend, wasn’t it? He would have saved Verd himself, had he the chance.”
Fradox smiled. “I suppose it is me and you then, Tanzarian. At the end of this journey.”
“I suppose so. We can return home now, I suppose.” Tanzarian noted Gunther who grumpily couldn’t get the fire started. “And what of you, Master Gunther? Where will you go?”
“What?!” cried Gunther in annoyance. “I can’t light this thing!”
Tanzarian and Fradox both laughed. The first time since entering Sinnett’s evilness.
“Fradox, your bind to the Getrau’ Army is no longer binding. You may go back to your home, shall you feel the need.”
“I will. My service it seems is complete. You, of course, are welcome to come with me. You will always be safe near my family.”
“Of that I am sure, good Fradox. And it seems until I can meet up with Xavon again, that that would suit us just fine.”
Tanzarian smiled. Fradox then saw good Gunther hobbling up with a limp. “Me, eh? Straight to the barracks! I saw what they did to that perfectly fine man, back there! And if I don’t go straight to fight with the men, then I’m just as bad as they are!”
That night the three men rested peacefully. As Fradox had already drifted to sleep, and Gunther drunk by the fire, Tanzarian lay awake staring at the stars. Tank was dead. The fact hadn’t truly hit him just yet, but as it did he realized it. He no longer would see the hard, scarred face again and as he thought of it he thought of Tank’s compassion. An age ago, it seemed, Tank had saved all the members of the Quad Squad in the Battle of Bosh. The compassion shown by Tank was unparalleled, despite his size. It was his compassion that scarred him in the first place.
When Tank was a child, Gondo himself attacked his small Getrau’ village. As a young man, Tank wanted to fight alongside the men. He offered sword and shield to them, but they denied him the right. They cast him aside, saying he was not ready to witness death, or more importantly, cause it. Defying the orders, Tank cloaked himself and fought. He was not ready and in the battle his face and body were scarred beyond belief. As he neared death, Tank found Gondo himself. He cut the very leg of Gondo and sent him to his knees. Tank stood and held his sword ready to slice the head from its tyrant shoulders. But compassion stayed his hand. He dropped the sword and let Gondo live. The men soon found this. They defied him and spat at his feet calling him a coward. With his parents killed, Tank had no one to run to at this time. He had no comfort. He became hard. He became dark and began a hatred of others. He no longer wanted to be in a group; he was a loner. But Tank would redeem himself in the form of the Getrau’ Army.
As Tanzarian thought and thought of Tank he couldn’t help but shed another tear. Tank had saved him countless times, he had survived Bayor, the griffins, the vine beasts, the goblins and the ghosts, but the one thing he feared most, men, had killed him. Tank was gone.
The stars weren’t clouded that night. As Tanzarian drifted to sleep he rubbed at his ankle. He hoped he wouldn’t have nightmares that night. He wanted to have dreams; dreams of Tank, of the Quad Squad, of their travels. He didn’t want to lose Tank.
And he knew that he would only see him in his dreams. Tank was now only a dream.
I'd really just like to know how some others will react to my writing as I continue. So if you read this just tell me what you think and offer some advice.
Chapter XIX
Captured
There they were. The Quad Squad lay beaten in a puddle of red blood that stained the green grass below. There was Tank with a large puddle of blood and to the side was Lock with no blood around him at all. Yet he was dead. And there was Derek and Fradox, a dagger in Derek’s hand and twenty or so arrows protruding from Fradox’s chest. In the middle of all the death there was Tanzarian, but he was not dead. His eyes were wide open, a smile upon his face.
Then Tanzarian opened his eyes violently. Sweat poured from every inch of his face drenching every inch of his neck and shoulders. He looked to his left and gazed toward the right. The rest of the Quad Squad lay sleeping peacefully. “A dream and nothing more…”
Slowly the Quad Squad began to awake. The Quad Squad currently lay beaten on the edge of the now captive, and extremely dangerous, Serta Forest. Only a hundred yards northward were the Ruins of Karnok, the place where all the trouble had begun. To all other sides of them there was a grassland that was rough and rugged with high grass shooting up every here and there.
“Come fellows…” Tanzarian said to the others. “We continue.”
Tanzarian tried to smile, but couldn’t, then walked directly southward.
“Is that it?!” cried out Derek. Tanzarian stopped in place and unwillingly turned. This is what he’s been afraid of. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
“Well what else needs to be said, Derek?” Fradox brushed shoulders with Derek as he passed to meet Tanzarian.
“You know precisely what I’m talking about! Everyone here does!” Derek’s face was contorted in such an evil way now, that none of his friends recognized him. “You betrayed us! You’ve been leading the goblins to us the entire time! I knew! I always knew! Had there not been someone to always protect you you’d be dead by now!”
Lock, with a worried face, sidled by Derek with the enormous Tank at his side. Together they joined Tanzarian.
“Derek, you don’t even know what you’re saying! I did nothing of the sort and everyone here knows it!”
“Oh, sure, Fradox! How did the meat that Tanzarian told you to put away, end up tied to a stake in our clearing!? Could you explain that one to me, bard?!”
“I didn’t put that there! I don’t know who planted that, but it wasn’t me!”
Derek stormed up to the rest of the Quad Squad who remained silent. “That’s why he’s been sulking around lately! He’s been planning this ever since we left! Probably figured he’d at least have a bit of fun at our expense before he dies himself out here!”
“Derek…” said Tanzarian weakly. The bite that the venomous snake had inflicted into him was searing with pain often. He had not the strength to be a leader anymore. “I trust that Fradox did not put any of that meat anywhere, because I know that he wouldn’t betray us.”
“Oh, yes, Tanzarian, very good then! Take his side won’t you!? I suppose you’re in league with him! What about you two oafs, huh?!” Derek spat out at Tank and Lock. “Are you planning to kill me tonight, too, Lock?” Lock began to cry a little.
“Derek, stop it! Look at what you’re doing to the Quad Squad!”
“What I’m doing?! You’ll be the ruin of us all! The ruin of my father’s Squad as well!” Derek drew a dagger from his belt and rushed at Fradox, blade ready to kill. Tank’s long arm barred Derek’s path and with a flick of his finger he knocked the blade away. Derek backed off quickly and shook the dirt from his elvin boots. “He won’t protect you forever, Fradox. Coward can’t even speak…”
Some time passed then and an hour the party had been continuing south. The group was led by Tanzarian who weakly limped forward, hurting with every step he took. Behind the leader were Tank and Lock side by side, never saying a word. Proceeding was Fradox angrily marching and far behind any of them was Derek, dagger in hand. Had the Quad Squad been dead before, surely now it was rotting.
And then all hope of escaping Sinnett was lost. It was midday now and the party had been continuing when a horse drawn carriage came speeding into sight. Leading the carriage, wearing an arrogant smile and straight line of teeth was a tall, muscular elf with blonde flowing hair. With a bullwhip he cracked at the pure white horses and yelled in the old elvin cry, “Sped”, which means speed.
Of the elve’s language, it must be said that it was not commonly used. In the beginnings of Deckbin, men, dwarves and elves all lived together in nomad-like packs wandering the barren surface in the search for food. With all the races living together, one language was formed and was used universally by any intelligent being in Deckbin. The elves, however, had their own separate language, as did orcs and dwarves, that was seldom used. The elves, proud as they were, still liked to mix in a few elvin words every now and then.
The whip cracked and the carriage sped towards the Quad Squad, but they did not run or even move. They all just stood where they, each of them knowing that this fate would have come to them eventually.
The carriage screeched to a graceful halt in front of the men and from the insides of it came out six burly elves. They each grabbed one member of the Quad Squad by the wrists and securely fastened red silk tightly in a knot around them, afterwards fastening a blue knot to their legs. To elves were needed to bind Tank, weak as he was, but they needn’t had done so, for Tank didn’t struggle whatsoever when he was bound. He just didn’t care anymore.
The carriage driver stepped out in front of the captured squad and smiled. This elf was a top leader of Sinnett’s army called Commander Tell. Tell brushed the dust of his arms and then surveyed the men, smiling.
“So then,” he started aloofly, “you are the men whose army was last spotted in Glenensil, eh? Well… I believe you know why you were captured?” Nobody said a word.
“Ok, then. The elves no longer allow anyone into our lands who is not an elf. So, you three are in direct violation.”
“Us three?” said Tanzarian, but shortly after he realized his mistake. Himself, Fradox and Tank were the only ones in violation. Derek and Lock were both elves.
“Yes,” laughed Tell, “unbind those elf-friends, goons. You other three…” Tell looked at the men in disgust, “will be graciously granted a trial in Silibell under King Servius. The trial may take weeks, so for now you will be held as elf captives in Green Town in the Sunny Valley. You two elves, I will get the pleasure of meeting on the carriage ride home. Oh, and yes, you two will be allowed to testify for your friends once the trial arrives, so… Well, I don’t think anything needs to be said about these hooligans, now does there?”
Tanzarian shot a look of hope at Derek. With only his eyes, Tanzarian could communicate with Derek. Those eyes were full of hope that everything would turn out all right in the end, as Tanzarian had always hoped. But Derek’s eyes, Derek’s were filled with doubt.
Three hours after the capture another carriage arrived that was to carry the three men to Green Town. The goons roughed the prisoners up into the carriage, which the three now thought of as a good thing. At least they wouldn’t have to walk. Derek and Lock were both presented with new, elf garments, to replace the old men’s clothes they were garbed with. On the side, Commander Tell presented them each with new, steel daggers that were curved in shape.
Sitting now in the luxurious coach was Tell with Derek and Lock sitting across from him. The entire carriage was outfitted in bright green, the outside completely white, being drawn by two pure white horses, like Fantasy. The elves were a race of their beauty.
“Uh, Commander Tell, sir…” Lock had been trying to get the courage to speak, “you said that our friends would get a fair trial, right? So then, they can be released, right?”
“Well, legitimately, yes,” replied Tell. “I can level with you two though, being elves yourself. Chances are they won’t survive the trial. I were you, I’d be happy being spared.”
“I am,” came in Derek smiling ear to ear. “One of those men I would never stand up for, the one with the white shirt named Fradox…”
“Oh, yes…” came in Tell, “the one with the odd look about him…”
“That’s the one. He betrayed us all in the Serta Forest, leading us to the goblins. That…! Well, I guess he’ll be justified…”
“But Derek!” cried Lock sacredly. It was only now that he began to fear Derek. “Fradox didn’t betray us! That meat could have been left as a trap for the goblins!”
“Yes,” Tell butted in, “the goblins are posing to be quite a problem for us, Derek. They have been roaming in packs now around Sinnett. That is why we are on top guard, what with a war starting.”
“War here as well?” Derek said.
“That is what Servius says. He is our new king, you know. Old one didn’t have the gall to run an army. Since Servius is been running the show, things have gotten better. A lot better.”
“We met with the goblin head himself, Commander,” said Derek. “Name was Fornig, said he was going to destroy the elves… We can stand against them right?”
“We are hoping,” replied Tell. “But let us not worry only of these matters. Why not tell me of how you came to be stuck with those filthy men…”
“Filthy!” cried out Lock. “You see here, Tell!”
“Lock!” Derek said in a hush. “I will handle the rest of them… For now, we get Tell and the elves to trust our decision… Uh, don’t mind my friend, Commander. I think the men have him brainwashed a bit.” Derek winked at Lock and this gave hope to Lock. Derek it seemed had a few tricks left up his sleeve, thought Lock. He’s going to win over the elves so that when he tells them that Tan, Tank and Fradox are innocent, they will respect his judgment and let them go. This is what Lock thought.
It wasn’t a long journey led by four speeding horses, so only three days passed until the men’s carriage was stopped in front of an inn in the center of Green Town. The men were wrestled out of the coach by the burly elves, which proved a bit harder this time; the men had had a rest the whole three days. Through the streets of Green Town went Tanzarian, Tank and Fradox with stares and curses from the elves, while the men simply tried to look away; as if nothing was happening at all. And in the town square, where the prison building was, went the captives. Up a stair of white wooden planks they went until they entered the dark and dank inside.
Green Town was like any other town in Deckbin at the time. It was small and homely, but that feeling seemed to wash away with these current times. The town was located in the Sunny Valley, which was long known for its combination of elf and men inhabitants, and not far from Silibell, the elve’s capital. At times such as these, war mongering times, the town was almost always wrapped in a fever of disillusion and paranoia. The men that called the Sunny Valley their homes were on edge; men like Tanzarian’s party were being taken captive in larger numbers recently. How long would it be before they themselves were prisoners as well?
The men didn’t awake until Tell rattled the bars of their cell and called out to them.
“Hey! Listen up, men. I just dropped the good-elves off in Silibell where they will be staying from now on. I also spoke with King Servius, himself. I’m a top advisor to his court, you know. Anyway, I spoke to him and arranged a trial, or tried to arrange, I should say. Servius claims that you will be tried, fairly, mind you, in the coming weeks or months. Until then, you are prisoners of the elves as a result of trespassing and will remain here until that trial occurs.
Tell smiled maliciously and stared into the men’s cloudy eyes. He was enjoying every word that left his lips. “This is Gunther, the bailiff. He will be watching you and minding you until your relocation. I suggest you enjoy these few weeks you have left, men.” Commander Tell s******ed and turned on his heel. He shook hands with Gunther, a man, and then walked officially out of the door and into the Green Town sunlight. Then the door shut behind him and the darkness returned.
Gunther himself was a short, chubby sort of man with the top of his head bald and graying brown hair surrounding his edges. His face was pulled together and tight, though his cheeks stuck out a bit. His legs seemed fit enough, his arms were brawn and his shoulders broad, and so he had an odd look about him. Though he appeared unfit, he also had a fighter’s look.
“So then, the elves got to you too, eh?”
Tanzarian was sitting with his back against the far wall next to Fradox while Tank sat with his legs crossed and his arms folded, like always, in the darkest corner of the cell.
“Shame, it is. A disgrace, I say. Men have been protecting those elves since the kings split out of the Mok Forest in ages past.” Gunther hobbled over to the cell and looked in.
“You think that trial will be the end of you?”
Tanzarian looked up from where he sat, his ankle still bulging with pain, though it had lessened now that it had time to rest. “We all hope that our elf friends will stand for us… Well, I know they will. I think we will be safe if they testify for our sake.”
“Testify for you three?” said Gunther in disbelief as he chuckled. “Sorry, friends, but what makes you think they’re going to do that?”
“We’ve been together for years now, those elves and us. Never would any of the two betray us.”
“Sadly, Tanzarian,” said Fradox in a hush, “one of them already has.”
Tanzarian turned to Fradox with a hard face, but he couldn’t argue with Fradox now. Or could he? “Fradox,” said Tanzarian annoyed, “I want you to tell me whether or not you put that meat there.”
“You said you believed me,” came in Fradox, his voice rising.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore, alright?!”
Fradox then got up and sat in the second darkest corner.
“Uh,” came in Gunther, “I’m sorry about your troubles. I got plenty of my own, thank you, though. I heard about the Yoct Army. Shame it was, having a forty year run end in a mutiny. I just hope my boy had nothing to do with it. In fact, I’m expecting old Goater home any day now, now that the war’s over. I hope that pushing him into the army straightened him up a bit.”
“Your son was in the Yoct Army?” said Tanzarian.
“Yes, he was,” replied Gunther proudly. “And what were you enlisted in?”
“I am the leader of the Getrau’ Army, of the Militan Military. It is because of your men that we are locked here in the first place.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, sir. The point is the war’s over. Gonz failed. Now these elves, all of them fearing some attack by goblins, are getting restless; all lies to me. You know, it’s been the last few weeks here in little Green Town that I’ve learned something. We men have to stick together like brothers. This war that’s been going on between Yoct’s men and the Militan, well it’s just weakening us, you know? If it was up to me I’d let you go and you could go back to wherever it is that you came from, but if them elves did ever find out that you were missing, then it’d be my head.”
“I don’t want you to set us free… We’ll be all locked until that trial…”
“What do you men by that?”
Tanzarian thought a while, but never replied. He didn’t care much for this Gunther character.
“Get up. All of you!”
The men found themselves awake now. It had been a week in their prison and already Tell stood wearily outside the cell with a long elvin rapier in one hand and a primitive club in the other.
“Gunther, release them quickly!” Gunther stared blankly and with a touch of anger towards Tell. He was still too proud to take direct orders from the elves.
“Why should I?”
Tell’s face didn’t change. “Why?! Have a look outside won’t you?” Gunther ran off to the door of the prison which was wide open, a dark-red sky through it.
“What’s going on?” asked Tanzarian commandingly. “Why do we leave so early?”
“It was not my decision. Nor was it anyone’s. There is some trouble that causes your early departure.” Tell was trying hard to stay calm. “Where is Gunther off to?!”
Gunther came galumphing back into the prison hall with a sweat beaded face and wide happy grin. “The men! There’s a riot against the elves! They’ve finally done it!”
Tell drew the rapier straight to Gunther’s happy grin. “You are with them then?”
“Well, I am a man aren’t I?” Gunther’s hands struggled themselves into the air.
“Release the men and go to my carriage just outside the town square. Trem Street.”
“Why should I?”
Tell pressed the rapier against Gunther’s trembling throat, sweat dripping down his red face. Firelight shone through the open door and shouts of terror and war were heard out and about the town square.
“I will cut you if not you depart! Now, go!”
Gunther’s face hardened, but it wasn’t enough. The pride of this man was no match. He drew a sword from his side and took off for the door. In the landing he turned and yelled back, “Next time bring a real weapon, instead of your skinny knife!” Then he disappeared into the rage outside.
The keys had been slipped to Tell, noted Tanzarian as the stoic, blonde elf opened the latch. As the three men poured out of the cell he quickly cut their ropes and gave Fradox and Tanzarian small swords.
“What of Tank?” asked Fradox. “What weapon do you have for him?”
“I have no other. Now follow closely by me and we’ll make our way through the madness.”
“What madness, Tell? What’s going on?!” Tanzarian demanded answers.
“The men of Green Town have rebelled against Sinnett and the laws of Servius. They have begun to riot in the streets killing any elf or any man in league with us. Foolish, Gunther, though proud is in grave danger. The men have him marked as a traitor. And you three are too important to Servius to be freed now, so we leave for Silibell and safety.”
Tanzarian, Fradox and Tank all stood weary. Fradox looked at the door, red with flames. An arrow, flaming, had struck it and the fire crawled its way into the prison.
“There’s no time left!” Tell shouted. “Stay close to me and you will find yourself in no harm!” Tell jumped through the flames and entered the steps in front of the prison.
“Come!” Tanzarian took the lead and took off through the flames with Fradox and Tank right behind him. Then they saw it. The town square was full of a hundred men it seemed, fighting a hundred elves. Fires had been set to almost every building and arrows flew without aim. Tell stood stoically at the base of the stairs. Tanzarian ran to him.
“You call this a riot? This is war!”
“So be it! Call it what you will, but either way we are all going to lose our lives!”
Fradox ran up to them with his sword in hand. “How do we get through?”
All three of them turned then to see Tank with anger in every hard scar of his face running down the stairs, weaponless, and into the sparring crowd. He bashed into the bodies and as he did, they fell. He was clearing a path.
“Follow him!” yelled Tanzarian. Tanzarian took the path that Tank was cutting. Tell took stead in the path as he was followed by Fradox. As Tank bowled his way through the battle, swords cut at him. A slice went across his left arm as he howled in pain. An arrow struck him in the shoulder, inches from his neck. Cuts went through and through his hard body as he kept
pushing. And in his path, they followed.
Tank pushed a large man over and turned to find another arrow piercing him through his right arm, one that was already bleeding terribly. Tell saw a man coming and sliced him with his rapier, blood shooting out over Fradox. Fradox turned then and saw a large, mangy looking man heading for Tell. The man notched an arrow and fired it with speed to Tell’s face.
But the arrow did not strike. An inch from his forehead, the arrow halted; suspended in midair. Tell looked mystified in Fradox’s direction. Fradox simply nodded and pushed him onward. Tanzarian’s sword found its place in an elf approaching and as it did, it also landed in that of a man. These four were the ones without a side.
Tank would not stop pushing until he was through the crowd. And as he neared the end, he found himself howling in pain from the wounds he received and just could not go on. He fell.
Tanzarian, who just pulled his sword from a crazy elf, looked to the ground and saw a lifeless Tank.
“Tank!” Tanzarian ran to him and tried to lift him as war ensued above him. He prodded at Tank’s body, but it would not move. He was motion less. Ahead, only yards away, was the street and Gunther was waving to them from the carriage.
“Help me! Help me lift him!”
Tell ran past Tanzarian’s hysterical, tearing face. Fradox came to Tanzarian’s side and struggled alongside him trying to lift the massive being. But he would not budge.
Tell got up to the carriage and jumped inside. “Go you fool! Drive us off!”
“What of the others?” asked Gunther.
“Leave them! I will not lose my head over these dirty captives!”
Gunther looked at them in the war crowd. A large, dark man was lying on the ground and two others tried to lift him. They tried to save him. Gunther turned to Tell and spat at his feet and took off towards the crowd.
He reached Tank and grabbed onto his limp body and drug with all his might alongside Tanzarian and Fradox. Tank began to move. They heaved and breathed heavy as they moved the mammoth of a man out of the war area and into the alleyway where Tell stood gaping. Tell stood unbelieving.
Tank was clear of danger and out of the fray. They all saw his body then. He had cuts from swords everywhere, blood staining all of his clothes. He had an arrow, half broken now, sticking out of his left shoulder. Another arrow was lodged firmly in his right arm. His eyes were open now, bloodshot. Tanzarian held his head and tried to hold back tears.
“Tank! Tank, don’t pass… Don’t leave us when we are so lost…”
Tank did not speak. Fradox had tears streaming down his face as he turned away in shame. Gunther then felt something cold on his face. A lone tear had run down his scarred cheek. He never remembered crying. The man went up to Tanzarian and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s gone, my boy. He died saving you all. His death was not in vain…”
“He isn’t dead!” cried out Tanzarian hysterically.
Gunther frowned and another tear fell. “Come now, boy. Get yourself to the cart, before you find the same fate he did.” An arrow whizzed by Gunther’s head. Fradox yelled out and turned for the cart.
“No! Listen, he isn’t dead!”
Fradox took a dead man’s shield from the ground and blocked an arrow as it came for him. Four elves were trying to stop the departure of Gunther and themselves. “Come, Tanzarian! Leave him!”
Tanzarian, teary-eyed, looked down at Tank’s lifeless body. Was this the end for Tank? The end of a man, stricken by his own past, scarred so much that he had lost the ability to speak. Tank may have lost that, but he could feel more than any. Tanzarian’s face was drenched in the tears of his fallen comrade. He turned and saw the rest of them already on the carriage, the battle moving towards the alleyway.
Tanzarian heaved himself up and flew to the carriage. Tell shouted out and the horses took off. Gunther and Fradox turned. “What are you doing!? We haven’t got Tanzarian!”
“Leave him to die with his friend! We have to leave!”
The carriage took off and a group of elves, twelve or so chased Tanzarian down the alley as he chased the carriage himself. Arrows shot by and barely missed. Tanzarian ran down the alley as fast as he could, for only seconds though, when another group of men came off the street in front of him.
“Go!” they called. The group of men all readied arrows and shot half of the elves dead. Tanzarian turned and drew his sword. “No!” one man called. “Get to that carriage!”
Tanzarian nodded and took speed off to the carriage. Down the dark and foggy alley he finally met it stopped at the edge of Green Town, wide open grasslands of Sinnett ahead.
He waltzed up and saw Tell bound by ropes, and a nasty cut across his eye in the carriage, with a smiling Gunther next to Fradox. Tanzarian tried to smile as he met the two, but he couldn’t. The death of Tank was too much for him.
“Our friend is dead, Tanzarian…” Fradox and Tanzarian stood looking at the dark sky above. The carriage was safe for now, it seemed, as Gunther tended to a small fire.
“I know,” came in Tanzarian. “He died saving us. He died to save scum like Tell. But that was the nature of our friend, wasn’t it? He would have saved Verd himself, had he the chance.”
Fradox smiled. “I suppose it is me and you then, Tanzarian. At the end of this journey.”
“I suppose so. We can return home now, I suppose.” Tanzarian noted Gunther who grumpily couldn’t get the fire started. “And what of you, Master Gunther? Where will you go?”
“What?!” cried Gunther in annoyance. “I can’t light this thing!”
Tanzarian and Fradox both laughed. The first time since entering Sinnett’s evilness.
“Fradox, your bind to the Getrau’ Army is no longer binding. You may go back to your home, shall you feel the need.”
“I will. My service it seems is complete. You, of course, are welcome to come with me. You will always be safe near my family.”
“Of that I am sure, good Fradox. And it seems until I can meet up with Xavon again, that that would suit us just fine.”
Tanzarian smiled. Fradox then saw good Gunther hobbling up with a limp. “Me, eh? Straight to the barracks! I saw what they did to that perfectly fine man, back there! And if I don’t go straight to fight with the men, then I’m just as bad as they are!”
That night the three men rested peacefully. As Fradox had already drifted to sleep, and Gunther drunk by the fire, Tanzarian lay awake staring at the stars. Tank was dead. The fact hadn’t truly hit him just yet, but as it did he realized it. He no longer would see the hard, scarred face again and as he thought of it he thought of Tank’s compassion. An age ago, it seemed, Tank had saved all the members of the Quad Squad in the Battle of Bosh. The compassion shown by Tank was unparalleled, despite his size. It was his compassion that scarred him in the first place.
When Tank was a child, Gondo himself attacked his small Getrau’ village. As a young man, Tank wanted to fight alongside the men. He offered sword and shield to them, but they denied him the right. They cast him aside, saying he was not ready to witness death, or more importantly, cause it. Defying the orders, Tank cloaked himself and fought. He was not ready and in the battle his face and body were scarred beyond belief. As he neared death, Tank found Gondo himself. He cut the very leg of Gondo and sent him to his knees. Tank stood and held his sword ready to slice the head from its tyrant shoulders. But compassion stayed his hand. He dropped the sword and let Gondo live. The men soon found this. They defied him and spat at his feet calling him a coward. With his parents killed, Tank had no one to run to at this time. He had no comfort. He became hard. He became dark and began a hatred of others. He no longer wanted to be in a group; he was a loner. But Tank would redeem himself in the form of the Getrau’ Army.
As Tanzarian thought and thought of Tank he couldn’t help but shed another tear. Tank had saved him countless times, he had survived Bayor, the griffins, the vine beasts, the goblins and the ghosts, but the one thing he feared most, men, had killed him. Tank was gone.
The stars weren’t clouded that night. As Tanzarian drifted to sleep he rubbed at his ankle. He hoped he wouldn’t have nightmares that night. He wanted to have dreams; dreams of Tank, of the Quad Squad, of their travels. He didn’t want to lose Tank.
And he knew that he would only see him in his dreams. Tank was now only a dream.
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