The Fortress

The recruiters traveled from Nat's home, to all the neighboring villages. At each village the whole day was spent loading taxes, mostly grain, into the wagons and then recruiting all the young men. By the end of the month we had collected a whole caravan of taxes (close to a hundred wagons of grain). At each village we stopped and got more boys and more wagons. The Quartermaster and his men had the recruits build wagons. Those were some of the first lessons. The recruits were shown how to quickly build an effective wagon within a couple hours by working together with the right tools. They also gained many more recruits. About 700 young men were recruited in our little region of Marovia. What kept them together? The fact that the Sildinian forces were an ever looming force, ready to invade Marovia and rob her of her lands and citizens, according to the officials. Rumor said that Sildinian raiding parties slaughtered everyone and took no prisoners. These rumors led people to rely on the Empire of Marovia for protection and through them the King had a tight grip on the country. So now 700 young men traveled, willingly for the most part, off to learn how to fight in an army. Every night the recruits pitched camp and Nat, Dylan, and the others would fetch fire wood, cook their meals, and during the wait for the food practice archery until dark. A prize was promised for the best archer when they arrived at the fortress and this caused great excitement. Nat spent hours practicing. While traveling he would choose targets while walking and shoot them with a couple arrows before retrieving them without a break in pace. Soon Nat found he could nail the center of a target a hundred paces distant (roughly a football field) ten times in a row.

One evening, while practicing his archery, a soldier came up to Nat and said, "Here sonny, le' me show ya 'ow it's done." With that he took Nat's bow, nocked two arrows, drew them both smoothly to his cheek and released. Both arrows hit the target dead on punching a deep hole in it. "Ya gotta learn ta do dat if ya wanta drive 'em straight t'rough any Sildini'n armor." Fascinated Nat began practicing this new technique. After discussing it with the soldier he found that it was used two ways. To improve the power of a hit or to increase the rate of fire. This tactic was used in many sieges to double the amount of arrows flying in the enemy's general direction. At first double loading proved too awkward but gradually Nat improved his skill until he could almost shoot as well as that soldier. Usually both arrows hit the target or targets about every other shot by the time they began approaching the final destination. The fortress of Chiriath Mul.

Off to be a Soldier

The Quartermaster and his escort/recruiters came trotting up. Two men broke off from the main party. They trotted up to Natel. The leader gruffly said, "What's yer name boy? Don't even think about lying to me because this is a small town and I can find out elsewhere if I have to." The scrutinizing the two horsemen Natel eyed their full armor and steel lances before replying.

"I am called Natel jo'Revoh," was the reply. The leader pulled a small stack of papers and, removing his gauntlets, rifled through them until he found the one he wanted. Then he pulled his horse over next to him and shoved the paper towards Natel saying "you do read, boy?" Indignant Natel snatched the page from him knowing what it was. One glance at the Lord General's seal assured him that it was an enlistment notice. Natel struggled through the words and made out his name and after some difficulty finished reading the letter. It said:

By order of His Majesty, Guardian of the Crown of Marovia, King Damian has proclaimed that all young men, having attained the age of 17 or greater must be enlisted into his service and made into soldiers of Marovia in order to preserve, protect, and expand the influence and power of Marovia. It is therefore your duty, having attained the age of 17 years, to leave friends and family and learn the arts of war at the great fortress of Chiriath Mul. Your name has come up in the rosters and if you have not arrived by the first snows or with the recruiters you shall be considered a deserter. You, Natel jo'Revoh, now have a chance to distingiush yourself before the kingdom of Marovia and prove your skill in battle.

The lead horseman grunted as Natel folded up the letter and as he and his man wheeled off to rejoin the main group he called back "I would keep that letter safe if I were you. It is your pass and you'll need it." Grumbling Natel set about finishing his tasks and then trekked home. He saw other farmers trudging home exhausted with hopeless expressions now that the quartermaster was here for his taxes. Spotting his good friend, Dylan, Natel trotted over to him wearily. Dylan was shorter than most boys his age but was corded with muscle. Hard work had removed any fat from his body and he was quite capable of taking care of himself in any brawl. Dylan also gripped a paper in his hand. Haunted eyes swung toward Natel and then recognition. "Did they get you too, Nat?" Nat nodded. Dylan's brother had disappeared two years ago after leaving for his basic training. No one knew what had happened only that he had gone through his training and was almost done and then disappeared. If anyone had reason to fear this summons it was Dyl. Natel felt he could survive anything they could dish out. In battle that is where he was not sure what could happen. He clapped Dyl on the back with a wiry hand and said, "Hey don't worry Dyl. Between you and me, we can take anything they throw at us. Just like when we took those showoffs from Terrion Creek Town." Dyl smiled at the memory. They had both taken on 5 toughs from Terrion Creek, a nearby village, and won a desperate brawl with only a few bruises. The toughs had actually jumped them on their way home and being trapped Nat and Dyl had trounced them.

That night Nat slept little and in the morning the Quartermaster began collecting taxes. The week went by all too fast and then they were off to visit other villages and finally to the basic training for raw recruits. Each of the new recruits were required to take a bow and quiver of arrows. then set off. It was a bright fall day but Nat didn't feel happy. No leaving house and home was not going to be great. It was the opposite of what he wanted. He had to take care of his mother. Only he couldn't. At least Old Jalad Filton had agreed to take care of Nat's mother. But he was nearly 60 and getting too old to work the fields. Nat WOULD return to take care of my mother. He had to. As the small troop left Nat took one last look at his village. His home. He memorized that picture before the trees hid it from his view. He was now off to be a soldier.

The Setting Sun

The day began bright and early in the village of Hubleton. Dozens of small thatched houses clustered around the largest building, a two story, shingle roofed inn. It was called the Leaning Oak and, as it's name suggested, several walls did appear to be leaning under the strain of holding up the roof. The inn had been there as long as anyone could remember and the village green, right in front of it, had been the host to many parties and festivals in the past. Not now however. The day began very early. Young Natel jo'Revoh stumped out the door. Another hard day of work. Another day hoping the King's men didn't show up. Every year the King sent soldiers to gather all the young men age 17 and older for training in the army. They were gone for a year and would return hardened and transformed into deadly killers. That or they returned broken and beaten. Some never did return. It was rumored that the training was rigorous and extremely challenging.

Natel began harvesting his first field. Hubleton was pitifully poor. Every year A certain amount of the harvest was required to be supplied to the King and he sent Quartermasters to pick up the grain at every town. Of late, because of an on going war with the neighboring Siltian's the tax was incredulous. 60 percent of the grain had to be given to the King, may he reign "forever". Now in order to make it through the winter with enough to start the harvest next year they had had to work even harder on less food. The soldiers always came with the quartermaster. He had to keep away from them some how. Natel rythmically cut sheaf after sheaf of barley as he thought all his options through. He could run away and hide in the woods. He could live a life traveling and fleeing but what would his mother do? That was a problem. She couldn't make it without him. His father had been dead some 11 years now and he could still recall his father's face. Ephrim jo'Revoh had been a tough strong farmer. He had been officially retired from the army but had been recalled to protect his country. He returned from the war in very bad condition with a bad leg and serious internal injuries. The village healer had said that nothing could save him short of a miracle. That miracle had never shown up. There was a chance that he could return home after the initial training and help her with the general upkeep of the farm.

The sun rose higher and higher, passed it's peak and continued down. Natel worked his way along with only a pause at midday to eat a couple apples and get a good replenishing drink from the small spring that cut past the town. As the sun neared the horizon a young boy came racing past shouting as he ran, "The quartermaster is here! The quartermaster is here!"

Natel paled at this news and turned to gaze up the rode. The village was surrounded by trees clumped in dense groves all over the place. Sure enough, the quartermaster, along with a dozen armored soldiers on horseback traveled at a good pace toward him down the road. Natel felt as though his whole world may be setting with that sun. Now he would most definitely have to go with the soldiers. He had nowhere to run or hide and no warning until they were upon him. He would have to leave his quiet little home and learn to defend himself and his country so the King could continue to tax his home. Life just wasn't fair.

A dark and Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night. Black clouds unloaded sheet after countless sheet of rain upon the earth, bombarding the ground mercilessly as if to wash the earth away and drown it out. A lone figure fled up a dark road, struggling through the blinding rain and sinking mud. The figure held two bundles closely to her bosom and pressed on despite the torrents of rain. The continuous battle against the elements was worth the survival of her twin sons. Finally she spotted her objective. A lighted window. It shone out through the rain and beckoned to her. Struggling towards the window she forced herself to continue on until finally, she collapsed on the doorstep. Gathering her strength she pounded on the door feebly until it opened and she, along with her precious bundles, were hustled into the warm interior of the inn.

17 years later...

The rule of King Damian, Lord of Marovia, Guardian of the Crown was at its hardest cruelest ever. Never had the people of Marovia known such high taxes. All men of the age 17 and older were forced to serve in the army until the age of 25. Then they were released and allowed to work and live with their families in times of peace. Women were even recruited. They began being recruited for town watches. Bandits and clans warred everywhere King Damian was not and a man kept a knife within reach at all times if he valued his life. The only hope of rescue lay in an old prophecy. The prophecy said that two strangers and two brothers would bring peace and prosperity through times of war, and war would come with peace and prosperity.

Welcome!

Welcome to the Random Story Blog! This is a place where we take turns writing pieces of a most excellent story! We should start soon! Visit often! =) Bye!