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#10536028 Jan 16, 2015 at 11:57 PM
3 Posts

Adam Connery

Adam Connery trudged along the dirt road as the setting sun lowered itself into the land behind him. He sighed as his boots kicked up dust in the air which only added to the dust already kicked up by those he travelled with. Around fifteen people, both men and women, followed him as they trod the beaten path. Fifteen people turned back at the border between Westfall and Elwynn - turned away to go back to their miserable lives in their homeland.

They had tried to cross the river two days before, but several kingsmen had intercepted them. Damn soldiers, he thought, you’d think they’d be able to sympathize with us. Most had fled at the first sight of the blue-coloured fighters, but Adam had stayed with his wife and the rest, fighting with what they could to try and perhaps, by the will of the Light, escape into the woods.

Sadly, he must have not prayed enough, for him and his compatriots were promptly subdued and captured. One of the soldiers, a gnome wizard, had been kind enough to conjure up a spot of food. Wizard food was terribly bitter and tasteless, but a starving stomach will consume about anything. Or, it would, if it had the chance. The rest of the soldiers did not take kindly to feeding lawbreakers, and soon enough Adam and the rest were shuttled off to the bridge, where they were handed over to a group of Westfall Militia, who in turn booted them away.

But that was in the past now. Currently, Adam was just trying to find somewhere to spend the night. Preferably somewhere soft and warm, with a nice little fire to cook whatever meager scraps they could find.

“Adam, we’ve been walking for hours.. can’t we rest?” His wife, Mary, was a kind woman of twenty eight years, two younger than him. Both were from Jangolode Town, and both families had been lowly miners, but they got on well enough before the whole Defias predicament, and now this.

“Uhm.. I suppose so, yeah.” Adam plopped down on a broken fence, and the rest of his party breathed a sigh of relief as they got the chance to rest. He dug around in his pocket and withdrew a small handful of nuts. He popped a few in his mouth and handed some to Mary, who sat next to him. She had pretty blue eyes, contrasting his own dull brown ones.

“What’re you thinking, Adam?” Mary looked at him, searching for an answer.

“Well, there’s not much to think about besides what to eat an’ where to sleep.” She frowned.

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Not a clue.” A man, whose name Adam remembered was something like Evan, approached them. He was older than them both, but had not yet gray hair.

“We’ve been travellin’ south fer’ about two days, so that puts us a couple days out from Sent’nel Hill. Still in the northfields, I think.” Adam nodded, thankful for this pointless knowledge. He continued to chew on a nut as a dust cloud caught his eye. That’s kinda’ odd. Peering at the cloud as it drew nearer, he realized how big it actually was, but his attention was now upon several mounted men in gleaming armour riding at its head.

They bore orange and white tunics and tabards, and their armour and weapons looked pristine. At least, the mounted men did. The host that followed them bore an assortment of arms of varying quality.

“By the Light…” Mary stood open mouthed, as did the majority of Adam’s rag tag band. Adam continued to sit down on the fence. He wasn’t entirely impressed by the sight, but it still nonetheless tickled his curiosity.

The head rider, a man with shaggy black hair and stubble on his chin, stopped his horse, and spoke down to Evan.

“You there, what is your name?”

“I-Ian Langen.” Oh, Evan, Ian, same thing. Ian stood in awe - he’d probably never seen a mounted knight on a horse in his life.

“Well met Ian Langen, and well met to the rest of you. Do tell, what brings you all to this dreary place?” The sun had nearly disappeared entirely by now, and Adam could not read the features on the knight’s face any longer, but the way he spoke evoked calmness and superiority.

“I-uh.. we.. we tried ta’ cross th’ border a couple days back. We was turned back at the bridge and we’ve been walkin’ ever since.”

“Turned back at the border. I see.” The rider looked to those on his left and right - another man clad in armour, and a woman also bearing similar protection, “Luckily for you folk, I may be able to help.” The man dismounted his horse with a thud, and extended a hand to Ian, “My name is Harold Brook.”

“P-pleasure, mista’ Brook.” Ian cautiously shook the man’s hand. One should always be cautious in these times. The other mounted man spoke out in a commanding voice.

“You speak to Harold Brook, King of the West and Liberator of his people.” A king? Well, this is new. Perhaps we might be able to live out the night.

“K-king?” Ian nearly trembled. The King’s companion spoke again:

“It would be wise to kneel,” but Harold spoke back:

“Such is not necessary, Sir Edand. After all, he likely hasn’t heard.” Adam’s curiosity was piqued again.

“Heard of what, exactly?” Harold Brook looked at Adam, and spoke matter of factly.

“Of the sacking of Sentinel Hill. Of the rallying of the West. Of the Rebellion, to put it short. Sentinel Hill has been sacked? Well… this is either good or bad. Adam knew what was to come next.

“And you want us to join you.”

“Though I have not requested it, your service would be valued, yes.”

“And why should we?” Adam knew why, of course. There’d likely be food and clothes available, not to mention getting out of this dust plain. He just needed to make it obvious to his companions, some of which were probably too dull to realize the necessity in this matter.

“For your service, I will offer food and drink, clothing, arms and armour, and a place to rest your head when night falls, which seems to be happening now.” The others glanced at Adam with looks of that sounds pretty nice, and he replied to the King.

“Sounds like a good deal, well enough. When do we start?”

“Now would be a perfect opportunity. Lady Catherine, do you find this plain a suitable place for a camping location?”

“I believe it fit, my King.” Harold looked back to Adam and his wife, who gave Adam a this probably isn’t a good idea look. Adam shrugged and stood up, trodded over to the King and shook the man’s hand.

Three days later…

Adam stood, now clad with a leather tunic and proper trousers, outside of a small, beaten shack in the middle of a previous farmland. He held a poleaxe in his right hand loosely as he stood guard over the meeting presiding inside the small building. It was afternoon, not exactly supper time, but past lunch, and the Light had blessed the hot autumn day with clouds to block out the sun, and a light breeze to cool the skin.

His wife refused to don arms and fight, though since his joining Adam had experienced zero combat. She opted to cook for the army camp, which Adam overheard was nearing a thousand strong. Impressive, he thought, for a rag-tag group of poor. Adam could really care less about “Fighting for the Homeland” and “Saving the People”. The people had screwed him and his wife over a fair amount of times. He simply wanted to get back at the people who kicked him and his friends out of a possibly better life.

If we only made it across.

A man wearing a dark hooded cloak approached Adam, “I bear a message to the King of the West.” A chill ran down Adam’s spine as something seemed off about his man. It wasn’t his appearance, but rather his demeanor and the air he gave off. Nonetheless, a voice called from inside.

“Let him in, Connery.” Adam did just that, and returned to thinking about how much better life would be for him and Mary. He decided that shutting his eyes wouldn’t hurt for a few moments. After all, the King had at least three other armed people in the shack…

Adam awoke to the sounds of a skirmish happening behind him. Steel clashed, and shouting was heard.

“Get the king out!”

“Watch the blade!” Damnit, I knew he was shady. Adam whirled and entered the shack to see Sir Edand bleeding from the neck. He was alive and seemed well enough, but was out of the fight. The King and a large man with a warhammer were pressing towards the cloaked figure, whose back was facing Adam.

With a dash forward, and thrust of pole, the man was skewered by Adam’s weapon, and blood spilled onto the metal weapon and wooden floor as the man lurched backwards, completely dead from the blow. Adam felt his stomach heave, and fought the urge to vomit. He’d never killed a man, after all. After wrenching his poleaxe from the corpse, other men began to arrive, attending to anyone wounded in the shack.

“Well, Connery, it appears it was wise to have welcomed you into the fold. I’ll have to keep you close.” Harold Brook smiled kindly at Adam, who still fought to keep his lunch down.

“Uhm, thank you, sir.” The assassin was dragged out of the shack, and the King patted Adam on the shoulder before turning back to the meeting. An injured Sir Edand stayed as a woman attended to his wound.

“An assassin? Who would have gotten word of this? Surely not the commanders stationed in Elwynn.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue, but we’ll have to remain cautious about our advances from here on out. I should have had the foresight to see something like this.” A young man bearing an orange tabard entered the shack.

“My king, one of the men recognize the assassin.” Harold strode over to the man, looking him in the eye.

“And who is this would be killer?” Harold held both hands clasped behind his back calmly as he awaited an answer.

“The man said he recognized him as one of the bannermen of House Reynolds of Northmark, sire.” The King’s face could not be read as he stood expressionless, seemingly lost in thought. After several seconds, he spoke up.

“So, Lord Reynolds has reason to oppose our rebellion.” He strode back to the table where his other lieutenants stood, and leaned on the table.

“His lands do border the river, my lord, and are the closest to Elwynn. Perhaps he has brokered a deal with Westridge to maintain order in the region.” King Harold answered with stern voice and furrowed brow.

“That wouldn’t be unheard of.” Several empty seconds dwindled on, “It’s a shame that we must conflict with our own people, but a necessary shame, I suppose.” Adam stood in the corner, blood still dripping from his poleaxe. He had no experience in noble houses or fighting wars, but one thing was sure...

Mary would hear quite a story when he reached their tent tonight.

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