Red Warrior

[Knight]

Red Warrior, is a fantasy adventure story I have been working on and improving upon since grade 3, based on a sort of game me and my friends used to play with Lego figures and scenes. It's a tale of a long lost prince, who lived a care-free life in his youth, who is thrust into a war against an undead, immortal necromancer. I am going to post the prologue and first few chapters, I plan to publish the entire thing someday, and anything I post is subject to change or be privately edited on a later date. The chapters are from the first book in a series of about 5-6 I plan to do, it's called Red Warrior: Secret of the mountain. I will set up a feedback page separately. Enjoy!

Note: I have not taken the time to edit this, I've been focusing mostly on the first chapter.

Feedback page: http://serenesforest.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=37067

Prologue

Fire, Blood, and Steel

Snow fell gently on that cold, autumn morning. If one looked through the flurries of flakes, the forests of pine, they would find a stone fort perched upon a ravine, over looking a wide crystal lake. The water was enclosed by walls of mountains, locking it away from the outside. A poet once described this place as a winter wonderland, but soon, it would become a frozen hellhole.

A lone sentry stood on the fort's ramparts, examining the trees in the vicinity. From the guard's point of view, the world was serene, the only sound was the howl of the wind, the only movement was the flurry of snow. There was a torch still burning a few paces from the sentry's stance, he thought he had done enough, there were no enemies coming; perhaps he had some time for a nap. Then, he heard something, a sudden stomp, faint, but still noticeable. Initially, the guard took no mind, but the stomp came again, this time louder, and then again, in shorter time. The sound was accelerating in both distance and occurrence. He marched over to a crevice in the wall and lifted his crossbow, observing the terrain. A dark figure could be seen in the blizzard, alone in the cold. The guard was surprised, but dismissed all his recent worries. He kept his eyes toward the direction of the shadow, but then more started to appear, more figures could be seen in the snow. Without hesitation, the sentry shot a bolt at the approaching mob. The sound stopped, the figures were still, and before he knew it, an arrow had pierced the chest of the lone guard, sending him down the wall.

The mysterious army approached the fort's barbican, and stopped at the gate. Most armies would have motive to attack, most armies would obey the honour of battle and notify their opponent, this was not most armies. Most armies are living, this army was neither living nor dead, it was the army of the walking bones. Almost a thousand undead soldiers stood in front of the fort, motionless, gazing upon the castle walls. A single, cloaked man moved in front of the battalion, and held his hand out to the right. His face was unidentifiable, hidden under his hood. His only visible article was a sword in his hidden left hand.

"Open," he muttered, and a giant ogre was summoned from the undead soldiers. The beast began pounding on the tall, steel door, causing a ruckus that would wake a deaf man. It wasn't long before the castle's archers had been alerted to its presence. But they were too late, the monster had forced open the doors, and the corpses were flooding in. Skeletal marauders had broken into the courtyard, wielding make-shift or stolen weapons to bring about their violence. They began killing the vanguards that had been sent to meet them, and they soon started climbing the walls to get rid of the marksmen. The vicious troop had taken the walls with ease, nothing could stand in their way.

Edward stared into his hands, wondering how he was to get out of this mess. His mind was filled with grief and despair for his soldiers who had fallen. He could hear the screams of his men as they were massacred.

"Your majesty?" a knight approached him. "What are our orders?"

"I-I," the king paused, "I don't know."

Both he and the knight knew that this was the end; there was nothing they could do. The king sat upon his throne, watching as the gate was slowly being pummeled open. Edward watched, contemplated, he was trying to conjure a strategy. For the past thirty years, he had fought without cause, perhaps this time there was something he could change.

"Sir Knight, I need you to deliver my sword to my wife, and escort her through the secret passage."

"But sir! She went into labour only a short while ago."

"I don't care! If she has to deliver while walking then so be it, we don't have any choice."

"Yes, of course sir," the man retrieved Edward's blade, and ran up the stairs at the side of the hall. Perhaps this was the saddest moment, Edward thought, he would never be able to lay eyes on his child. He watched as the front gate flew open, but only the single hooded figure emerged. A sword was drawn in the creatures right hand, electricity was spewing from his right. The creature approached, the king, making slow paces, and began to speak in his reptilian voice:

"Where's Epee? I was hoping for a proper execution."

I'm afraid my rapier will have to do, I hope that won't be too much of a problem."

The figure stood silent for a moment, turning his head left and right.

"Disappointing, but I have no objections. I'm sure I'll find it when I do the same to your wife. Let us begin."

A young, blue-eyed baby boy, crying in her mothers arms. The delivery worked out without any problems. Sarah held her son while singing an old lullaby about stars and dragons. She was alone in the room; the doctor had ran as soon as he heard of the attack. She was not afraid, in a way; she knew this day was inevitable, she just hoped her son wouldn't be there. A knight barged into the room.

"We have to leave now, take this sword and make for the escape route, I'll hold them off the best I can."

Without question, she got up with her child, and grabbed the sword. She walked out the door and sprinted towards a spiraling staircase. At the base of the steps, she stopped and began chanting. The brick stones began to rearrange themselves to an arching doorway, Sarah steadily walked outside. She was at the base of the cliff, to her right was a frozen beach, and ahead was the frosty forest. She paused to recollect her strength, and began to dash again. She had to cross a short clearing before she reached the trees, she ran as fast as she could, carrying the weight of the baby and sword. When she got to the trees, she looked back at the castle. The hooded figure was standing at the passage door, motionless. She ran as fast as she could into the trees, without looking back. She knew she couldn't outrun him, but if she could lose him for a few moments, she could hide the child.

After a long while of running through the snow and trees, she stopped. She hoped the monster hadn't seen her baby. She had wrapped the child in a blanket, and hid him under a shrub, the boy began to cry. She had no time to sing a lullaby, she instead chanted a spell, a spell to put her to sleep. She took the sword in hand and began to walk exhaustedly through the forest. After a few minutes, she knew he was watching her; he had found her and was tormenting her. She did not change course, she kept walking, as far from her son as she could. Ten minutes, fifteen, twenty minutes had passed and she was lost in the trees. Then, he was in front of her; the dark figure was standing only a few yards from her feet. He stood still, and Sarah walked slowly towards him, admitting defeat. The man prepared his sword for a finishing blow, but to his surprise, she had the strength to strike him with the sword. The slash had not even hesitated the figure, and he reacted with a swift slice to her hip. She did not give up, and she slashed again. The man launched a bolt from his left hand, paralyzing her. The man took her sword, and stabbed her through her chest. She stopped struggling and accepted death; there was no more sense in fighting.

The man dropped the blade and lifted his hood. He revealed a clean white skull, large, soulless eye sockets, and a flame orange bandana around his cranium; he was a skinless, merciless corpse. He paused, observed his surroundings, expecting to see something or someone. He found nothing, he looked through a gap in the branches and saw the fort, perched on its cliff, it was on fire. Fire, blood, and steel, the attributes of the battle, despair had consumed the day.

"I forgot how much that sword hurt," the skeleton said. "Not like it will matter, the end will come soon."

The figure began to pace towards the fort, and left the bloody scene.

Edited January 17, 2013 by Knight

[Knight]

So, after a while of hard work, forgetfulness, and some procrastination, here is chapter 1 of Red Warrior. I am sorry for the major delay, I promise to get them out sooner next time, within the 1-2 week range. I took some advice from people, and this is the unedited first chapter. I am quite proud of it if I do say so myself.

Chapter 1

Red Warrior

I woke up with a giant yawn, and crawled out of bed. What time is it? I steadily approached my window, and looked out, observing the scene. Below me was a valley, which held a small, polite little village. Surrounding the valley were vast walls of forest, which served as a way to isolate this place from the outside world. For miles and miles, all one could see were trees and shrubs, nature’s realm, no one could conceive the thought of war and violence, peaceful, too peaceful for my taste. It must be almost noon; Kaiser wouldn’t want me sleeping in another day. I opened my closet, and pulled out my crimson tunic. I sat down on the bed, put my pants over my legs, and then pulled on my shirt. Then, I grabbed my belt and sword, and put them around my waist. Finally, one last piece, I grabbed my red cloak out of the closet, and wrapped it around my neck, completing my suit. I turned to the mirror in the corner of the room, and looked at myself.

I am Edward Kindle, that is my name, I thought to myself. I had somewhat straight, wavy blond hair with a distinct cowlick, and pale blue eyes. I was fairly tall, I have light skin, and a slender figure. I remember the days of my youth, where the village boys used to pick on me because I looked like a girl. But those days are over now, I am adult, and have been for a couple months. No one would cross me like that if they knew what was good for them.

I live here, in Kindle Manor, ever since my parents died. They were taken by illness around my birth, I have never met them personally, but have always wanted to. My uncle, Kaiser Kindle, took me in after that, and brought me here on the manor. Kaiser was a different sort of noble, he came from a long line of magicians, and, despite his age, is a very able man. Kaiser was very humble and generous towards his people; he never used his gold for personal use except for food and paying his sole servant, Reginald. “I don’t need vanities,” is what he said, “I’m fine with the house itself.” In fact, the only thing of value he keeps is his precious stone collection, as he claims it’s a hobby of his.

“Sir, master wishes to see you.”

“Yes Reginald, I’m heading down there now.”

I walked down to the main floor of the manor, Kaiser was waiting for me in the hall. His aged eyes looked calm, but his body read like something was up.

“Edward, I need you to run a few errands for me,” he said, “I have some funds here for Father Maurice, and I need you to pick up some herbs for me at the market.”

“That’s it? Okay, be back in a short while,” and I left the manor’s doors.

Kindle was a very small patch of land; it was only a short walk down the hill into the village. Its market was nothing spectacular either, no foreign goods, just what we found in the forest. I found myself in Kindle’s square, looking through the vendors for Kaiser’s herbs, when I noticed a couple of strong men approaching a young lady at a stall. The way they walked seemed as if they were up to no good, and the swords on their belts didn’t help their image. They began harassing the girl.

“What a pretty necklace you have here,” said one of them.

“T-thanks, but it’s-“

“Looks like I’m taking you, your gold, and this shiny thing with me,”

“W-what?” the girl shrieked.

“Hey,” I approached the thugs, “you causing a problem?”

“This has nothing to concern ya’ shrimp” said the marauder.

“Yeah, now scram,” mocked the other.

“I’m not moving,” I stated to the men, “and you aren’t either.”

“Fine,” said the first one as the duo drew their swords, “I guess we’ll make you move.”

I drew my blade as well, and parried an oncoming attack. The other swiped, but I sidestepped out of the way. First rule of fencing, never leave an opening, this lesson filled my head as I examined my foes outstretched arm. I swiftly approached and stabbed my blade under the brigands shoulder, and then got behind his soon to be corpse as the other prepared his assault. The remaining combatant went to stab his own comrade, with me on the other side. Anticipating this, I let go of the man as he was pierced be his friend and rushed with a strong thrust into the bandit’s stomach, spilling his blood all over the ground. I lifted my head to see the vendor girl looking at me, and I gave her a flirtatious wink as I emerged victorious. She smiled back.

After acquiring the herbs, I walked down to the local church to see the reverend. I entered the hall of the building and approached a gentleman seated at a bench.

“Your gold, Father,” I said to him.

“Thank you Edward,” replied the old man, “is there anything else on your mind? You look troubled.”

“Actually, there is something I wish to get off my chest. I killed another two people today.”

“Were they brigands?” asked the reverend.

“I supposed so; they were assaulting a woman,” I sighed, “but is theft really a crime that deserves death?”

“The judgment is decided by the one who delivers the punishment, and in this case, you were judge, jury, and executioner.”

“But was there a way to spare them? I have too much blood on my hands and the guilt is weighing me down. If I could have spared all those I’ve killed, then I am no better than the bandits.”

“Think about it Edward, what would their lives bring to the world? If you were dead in place of the bandits, then think of all the innocents who would go down with you. You have become this town’s own vigilante; we could never make it by without you.”

I was trying to hold back my sobbing, I still couldn’t get over my death toll.

“If it’s their souls you worry for, don’t fret. The Stars tell us that the spirits of those who die, find their way into the cosmos. Evil spirits are disciplined until allowed entry into the heavens, but everyone finds peace eventually. Of course, we cannot be sure that the Stars are correct, we just have to have faith that it is true.”

I stopped to ponder this for a while, I don’t tend to put my faith in much of anything, but perhaps faith would allow me to keep my head on for a while. Death was always my biggest fear, I did not want for people to die, myself included. I’ve always been scared of the unknown, and I have no knowledge as to what will come to me in the afterlife. I said thank you and good-bye to Father Maurice, and I left the church.

As I was walking home, I began pondering on what I was going to be. Kaiser and Reginald have been giving me private lessons since I was four years old, I excelled in mathematics, fencing, and war strategy, although my historical studies were subpar. I guess I could always try to be a knight, since I am a noble it would not be hard for me. But my fear of death is a problem that is difficult to face. Brigands are not a problem, I know I can defeat untrained men, but I doubt how I would fare against a horde of the undead. I have never seen a skeleton, the only time they ever came to raid was when I was very young, but Kaiser and his guard fought them off before I could catch a glimpse of them. I wondered what walking bones would look like, the thought disgusted me.

I am at a loss, I love this village, and all its people, but I feel there is something more that I could do, I have not ever made a contribution to the war, never made a written work, and never influenced a major group of people. Perhaps it is premature for me to think of this now, but I need to do something, I need to find a way to leave my mark. I will speak to Kaiser about knighthood as soon as I make it back to the manor.

***

Kaiser usually greets me after an errand, but instead I entered the manor to find myself in a forsaken hall. I called his name, “Kaiser!” no answer. I called Reginald, but again, no answer. I heard a sound come from the tea room, it sounded like arguing. I slithered down the hall to eavesdrop on the conversation, trying not to be heard. To my luck, the door to the room was open a crack, and I peaked into the space. Inside I could see Kaiser on a chair, and Reginald making tea. Opposite Kaiser on two separate chairs were two men, dressed in full plate armour. Soldiers, maybe knights? No, they had a single spike on each of their shoulders, and wore long, nave capes. These men were higher than your average knight, these men were paladins, the best of the best. I could barely make out what they were speaking about, so I crept closer, opening the door some more. To my surprise, the door swung further than I intended, and the sudden creak caused the men in the room to turn towards me. I expected Kaiser to be furious at my snooping, but the men simply gazed at me.

“Well, he sure does look like him,” said one of the knights. I was puzzled as to who he was comparing me to.

“Come sit Edward,” said Kaiser, “we have to talk about your inheritance.”

---

Well, that's the first chapter, it's not hard to guess what the inheritance is, but the next chapter will add more of the mystery to the plot, and it only increases as the story moves along. The 2nd chapter will explain some more backstory to the kings, the land of Blaze, the undead army, and the situation of the kingdom. 3rd will introduce the villain, and his sadistic yet charismatic nature. Then I will do the 4th and 5th chapters, and possibly the 6th, depending on how much I can fit into 5.

[Knight]

This chapter is mostly dialogue, not that big, but I have delayed its intentional release, as I've been working on chapter 3 and planned to release them both at the same time. This would have been here a week earlier, if it weren't for my laptop's incident and I thought all hope was lost. Still, I am sorry for the other unnecessary delays. I like the next chapter. Also, I've done a name change for Epee, it will now be known as "Calibrand." (from Excalibur, and Brand, another name for sword.)

Chapter 2

Faith and Destiny

“Come, have some tea, we are going to be here a while,” I was still confused as to what Kaiser meant by inheritance. I took a seat beside Kaiser and stared at the knights, examining their appearance. The one to my left, the one who spoke to me before, had short dark brown hair, and a clean shaven face, he looked like the older of the two. The other one was bigger, but only slightly, he had longer, light reddish-brown hair, and a beard and mustache. They had a distinct difference in posture, the elder one was more refined in the way he was seated, the younger man looked relaxed and lazy.

“Edward, let me introduce you to these men, the one on the right is Sir Roland of Ember Manor, brother of Lord Ember himself and a loyal paladin of Firestone Keep.” He gave me a nod. “This other man is veteran paladin, Sir Wyatt Grim, he’s another Firestone knight.” He nodded to me as well. Roland sat up and began speaking to his partner;

“Look at him, he’s so skinny, nobody but you’d be able to tell the resemblance.”

“Quiet, lets listen to what the old man has to say.”

I was lost in confusion, what were these men doing here? Who do they keep comparing me to? And I’ve had enough of these skinny insults.

“Ed, I’m going to get straight to the point,” Kaiser said seriously, “Your name is not Edward Kindle, your full title is Prince Edward Vulk, ninth heir to the Firestone throne. You are the next ruler of the continent of Blaze.”

What? Did I just hear him correctly, I’m the heir to the Blaze throne? He must be joking, he must be. But why would two knights be playing along? Perhaps it was true, and I am king. I am at a loss to what to think of this.

“What evidence do you have to support this Lord Kindle?” questioned Roland. “You said you found the infant while hunting outside of Fort Northfire, the day after the fort’s invasion. You still haven’t got to the part that confirms you were ever that far into the mountains, and that this boy is even the king’s son.” This time Reginald spoke up.

“I was here the day master went hunting, he said he was travelling up north for wyverns, and I can confirm by my calendar that he was absent for the time of Northfire’s invasion.”

“And only a few paces away from the boy I found his mother’s bloodied corpse,” Kaiser stated.

My mother, my mother was murdered? I knew that the king and queen died at that fort, but now I am filled with the thought of my parents being massacred by skeleton marauders. I did my best to keep the images of their deaths out of my head, I’m a king now, I should be happy.

“So, assuming I am king, does that mean I get to live in a castle?”

Wyatt replied, “Yes.”

“And I get servants and guards and all that, right?”

“Yes.”

I stopped for a second and got lost in fantasy, I was imagining my life in royalty at a giant castle, I would have stayed like that forever if Roland hadn’t disturbed me.

“So, you think you have what it takes to be king boy, if I can even call you a boy?” He said. “Do you want to know what that means? It means you’re responsible for the lives of everyone in the kingdom. You have to protect it from rebels, diseases, poverty, and them,”

“Them?” I was afraid of the answer.

“The skeletons of course, the armies of the undead, ghosts of the sword, you are going to be fighting a lot of them.” He leaned over as if he was telling a ghost story.

“But I thought the skeletons were just mindless monsters?”

“Every bit of those words is false, they are smart, organized, cunning, it’s true that they haven’t been very active recently, but they are always scheming. You see, they are not as disorganized as some lower folk believe; they are lead by a group of villains, the five ‘Lich Lords’. They are the most evil of all the undead.” I was beginning to feel fear, he was intentionally trying to intimidate me, and it was working quite well.

“There is Cracknuckle, the iron wall and emotionless murderer, Headshot, the sharpest shooter with empty eye sockets, Jack-o-Lantern, the enigmatic rotten vegetable, Venom Jaw, the six-handed disfigured corpse, and the leader of them all, the Skeleton King.”

That last name I recalled from my childhood, a local market lady would always say to the kids who’d steal from her shop that “The Skeleton King stalks little thieves and naughty children.” I was once scolded by her in that same way for taking an apple, and when I told Kaiser I expected him to get me to apologize, but instead he walked over to her stall and said to “never call the name of one whom you don’t want around” and left without any further communication to either of us. Since then, the name was taboo to all the village kids, and the market lady, there was something haunting about it. Other than that experience, I have no knowledge of what he is.

“Who is the Skeleton King?” I asked.

Roland had a smirk on his face, almost like he wanted me to ask that so he could torment me more.

“He’s the necromancer; he stands seven feet tall and wears nothing but a dark cloak and a bandana on his clean white skull. He can butcher a hundred men on his own, and unlike the other skeletons, the magic on him is so strong, he cannot be killed by mortal weapons.”

“He’s a skeleton himself, so who created him?” This time Wyatt spoke up.

“Scholars have longed believed he is the reincarnation of the evils of King Edward II, he wears an identical bandana on his head. But I believe its all part of the ‘Crusader’s Prophecy’”

“Crusader, what crusader?” I asked.

“Doesn’t this kid know anything?” mocked Roland, “well, I think we’ve wasted enough time, I don’t think we can spare a history lesson.”

“We’re taking him with us.” Wyatt said.

“What, you actually believe the old bugger?”

I was astonished; I didn’t expect him to say that.

“Why do you believe this unlikely brat to be the king?” Roland ranted.

“Because I have faith.”