Curse

Milea · Jul 24, 2008, 09:04 PM // 21:04

Here is the first part in my hero tales about the Milea characters (Danvil, Halst, and Dervish). Enjoy!!

The Mileas

“Another one, great” muttered Halst as he swung his sword around, lopping his foe’s head off in one smooth stroke. The corsair’s headless body fell to the ground and lay still. Halst turned to see two rangers drawing their bows, and he laughed as they fell silently, arrows protruding from their backs.
“Hey, watch your back next time!” Danvil shouted as he retrieved his arrows from their backs.
“Yeah, yeah. What ever,” Halst muttered. “Why don’t you come down here and fight them head on?”
“And take your job away? No thanks,” Danvil replied as he jumped down next to his brother. “Stupid corsairs. Why did we come to Elona, anyways? I was much happier fighting Charr in Ascalon.”
“Its not a matter about what we want to do, yet. I keep telling you that we don’t have enough to enough to make it on our own,” Halst took his helmet off and wiped his brow. The fact was, the same question was in his mind, too. The two of them graduated from the Academy at the same time, and had spent their entire career fighting the Charr, as well as an occasional Stone Summit raid group that ventured into the foothills. The fact was, they were happy. But then they ran into a small snag. They had run out of money, and what they got from their enemies wasn’t gaining them enough. So they joined the Tyrian Guard, a group of fighters that were given quests from employers, and they took care of it. In reward, they were given money and a place to stay. It meant he and Danvil rarely saw their family, and even more rarely saw what they wanted to see. They were almost never given a break and they almost always were sent to complete challenging quests. Of course, they received letters all the time. But mostly they were letters of worry from their mother.
“Yeah? I keep saying we should ditch the “Guard” and freelance. What’s so bad about that?”
“I’ll tell you what is so bad about that, Danvil. Everybody is scared to hire freelancers, and there has been no sign of a Guild in two months. So we stay with the Tyrian Guard until we have enough to make it on our own, or until times get better.” Danvil never seemed to get it, but then again, he was a full two years younger and a lot wilder.
“Fine, but we did we have to get sent to Elona, Halst? I mean, they have their Sunspears. Can’t they handle the corsair problem?”
“They are, but this corsair group apparently took something from someone in Tyria, and they want it back. And the Sunspears said they wouldn’t deal with it. So it’s up to us.” Halst stuck his sword back in its sheath, slung it behind his back, and began to walk forward. The camp was just ahead, and he wanted to get this “item” back by nightfall.

“By the way Halst, there is somebody else hunting this group, too.” Danvil always could tell if somebody was on their trial. It was an instinct of his, which was the man reason why he wanted to be a ranger. “Oh yeah? How long have they been following us?” Halst asked, reaching for his sword.
“Hey! I didn’t say they were following us. I said they were hunting this group. So let’s try and get ahead of them.” Danvil began to jog forward, and Halst followed suit. They both knew what happened if they failed to complete a quest. It meant no pay, and they did the next one for free. Danvil hated it the last time it happened, and he certainly wasn’t going to let it happen again. “The corsair camp should be about a few more minutes ahead” He reached for an arrow when a hand stopped him.
“We can’t afford to go in there weapons raised, Danvil. They would overwhelm us in an instant. We should make some confusion first.”
“Gotcha. How about I put an arrow in the leader’s head?” Danvil said as he crouched behind some brush, and peered over. There, in front of them lay the corsair camp. By the look of it, no fires were lit yet, but the corsairs were at least off of their ship, which was moored in the harbor.
“If you can, sure. But if you can’t, just hit a few at random. Just cause enough so I can get a small advantage.” Halst drew his sword silently and made sure his shield was strapped tightly to his arm, and double-checking his armor for any cracks.
“Gotcha. Got a few in sight, get ready…” Danvil pulled back his bowstring and fired an arrow into a corsair’s head, and notched a second one. He let that one hit two corsairs, sticking them both in the head. The corsairs started running around, yelling to one another.
“My cue?” Halst asked. Danvil nodded as he strung another arrow. With a roar, Halst leapt from the brush into the middle of the camp, hacking left and right with his sword. The corsairs shriveled and fell to Halst’s long-sword as he continued on his rampage. Blocking attacks with his shield, he ran another corsair through, and kicked the lifeless body away, only to find another corsair taking his place. He could hear Danvil’s arrows whizzing through the air, finding mark after mark. “Hope you are keeping count, little brother,” Halst muttered as he stabbed another corsair in the chest. “Because that is number 38 for me!”

“38… 39… 40!” Danvil counted as his arrows kept finding marks. “They just keep coming, and I’m out of arrows!” Danvil thought. “Ah well, guess I’ll just have to make do” Just as he was reaching for his daggers, he heard the grass move behind him. He quickly dropped to a knee holding the daggers in his offensive position.
“Easy there friend, I’m no corsair!” came a voice from the bushes. And out from them strode a Dervish wielding a weapon that Danvil had come to know as a scythe, a weapon of holy warriors. “Stow your daggers, I come not looking for a fight with you. I am from the Sunspears, sent by Kormir herself to help you.” And with that, the Dervish strode passed Danvil and leapt into the battle lightning quick and began to slash at the corsairs. Only then did Danvil look down at his feet and notice a new quiver full of arrows. The Ranger smiled grimly to himself. “Well, at least the newcomer thought ahead” He thought as he notched a new arrow, and fired. “41… 42… 43…”

By now the Dervish had made his way through to Halst, and was fighting right along side him. “Greetings from Kormir, Spearmarshel of the Sunspears!” he shouted.
Halst nodded his approval. “Your timing is excellent friend, they just seem to keep coming!”
The Dervish nodded his head, “I would recommend that your ranger friend hit that corsair boat with a few burning arrows, it might slow them down.”
“I would, but there is an artifact of some sorts that I believe is on that boat. We first need to recover that artifact,” Halst replied as he parried another corsair’s sword. The corsair growled and lunged at him, pulling out a second sword and swinging at Halst’s waist.
Before Halst had a chance to respond, the Dervish swung his scythe and sliced straight through the man’s chest, and hitting three more behind him.
“I gotta get myself one of those,” Halst remarked as he hacked down another corsair that was creeping up behind.
“It does come in handy,” the Dervish remarked. “Look, the corsair group is thinning. I’ll handle the remainder, you get into that ship and find that artifact of yours.”
“Ok, I will. Hey, remember to keep count!” And with that, Halst leapt into the ship and began to cut down the defending corsairs.

Halst burst into the Captains room with his sword raised high. The Captain looked startled, but quickly laughed as Halst hacked down the two guards.
“Look at that, I was expecting to see and army of Sunspears and yet all I see is a man dressed as a warrior. Put down the sword, and leaving the fighting to the real men.”
“I’ll show you who the real man is. Give the artifact to me and I will let you live,” Halst commanded.
“What, this? Over my dead body!” the corsair yelled as he tossed the artifact on his desk and picked up his sword.
“With pleasure,” Halst replied as their swords met and clashed off of each other. Halst swung his sword, as the Captain ducked and kicked at him from below. Unfortunately, his foot met Halst’s armor. He howled as pain streaked through his leg, and Halst kicked him down with his foot. As Halst raised his weapon, the Captain grabbed a chair and swung it at him. Halst twisted and his shield caught the chair, which caught the impact of the chair, but sent Halst staggering backwards. The Captain laughed and jumped on Halst. As Halst crashed backwards, his sword flew into the air and clattered on the ground beside him.
“Now you die,” the Captain hissed as he picked up Halst’s sword and prepared to drive it into him.
As Halst watched the sword plummet toward his chest, he caught a quick flashback. It was of his early childhood days, when he would practice with his older brother, Halt. Every time Halt would win, he would tell Halst to remember that he could still win, up until the moment he breathed his last. Later in the summer, Halt went off to fight that Charr as they tried to invade Ascalon. Halst would practice every day, remembering what Halt said. One day, a detail of men came to the Milea house, rolling a cart. Halst watched from the next room over as his mom fell to a chair, sobbing. His dad just looked at his feet and banged his hand on the table. Halst ran around the where the cart was, and took a peek inside. There lay is brother Halt, with numerous claw marks and burns, and many wounds that had been made by swords and arrows. A man came and stood next to Halst. Halst look at him and asked, “did he fight to his last breath?” the man nodded and said, “Aye, he fought like he could win, even as the Charr surrounded him. And in a way lad, he did. He died so he could save the rest of his squad, including myself. He sacrificed his own life so that we could live. He fought until he breathed no more, and went to the Hall of Heroes like a true warrior.” Halst looked down at his brother, and smiled.

“DIEEEEEE!!!!” The Captain yelled, snapping Halst back into reality. With a yell, Halst threw his hands into the air and grabbed the man’s hand, and twisted it, throwing the Captain into a wall. He heard a sickening crack and knew the corsair’s neck had broken. He rose to his feet slowly and closed the man’s eyes. Halst picked up his sword and strode to the desk, where he picked up the “item”. It was a spherical object, and smoke swirled around inside of it. Halst quickly put it into his pouch and ran out of the room. He looked, but could see no corsairs. Instead he saw the Dervish standing at the foot of the ramp.
“I was getting worried about you, friend!” the Dervish called up.
“I was, too. Danvil! Burn this heap down!” Halst yelled.
“Whatever you say, Halst!” Danvil called from behind the Dervish. He quickly made a Flaming Arrow preparation, and fired three into the ship. Halst ran down the ramp as the ship caught on fire and begin to blaze.
“I nailed 78 of them Halst, how about you?” Danvil asked as he let a fourth arrow fly.
“One hundred and fifty-two, Danvil. And this ship doesn’t count. How about you, Sunspear?
“Me? I think I drove about 178 of them, but I may have lost count somewhere.”
“It was a good battle then and I am happy to call you friend, Sunspear. May I ask for your name?” Halst asked and Danvil came and stood next to him.
“You certainly may, Warrior. They call me… Dervish Milea!”

End of Part 1
To be continued…
(If you all didn’t hate it too terribly much)

Rothan Celt · Jul 30, 2008, 10:13 AM // 10:13

i did'nt hate it terribly much .... gg for writing it =)