Post by Sir Haymar Glen on Mar 31, 2014 12:02:50 GMT -8
This is my first Free-Build for March.
A trilogy I've started, it stars a new LCC side character, Wallace Rand.
Transformation of A Farmer, Part One; The Choice
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“What should I do?” Wallace Rand asked Dasher, his pure white horse. Dasher tossed her head, and nickered.
“I thought so.” Wallace sighed, and leaned wearily against the stable wall. He was a man of medium height, with shaggy, dark blond hair. He owned a small farm, on the edge of a village named Cragfall. His farm was a modest one, with a garden, main house, stable, and a chicken hut. It was a peaceful and solitary life he led, only broken up by hunting trips, and occasional visits to Cragfall’s market, but lately he had begun to wonder how much longer it would last. Word was coming from all over Roawia of the new Queen’s cruelty, and everyone was terrified of her. Consequently, her soldiers could pretty much take whatever they wanted, and Wallace knew it only a matter of time before they found his farm and took all his belongings, and, if he tried to resist, his life too. It made him mad just thinking about it.
Wallace had heard rumors that there was a rebel group, led by none other than Sir Haymar Glen, hiding somewhere in the Dragonscale mountains. He wanted to go join them, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave his farm unguarded, which brought him to his current dilemma. Should he go join the rebellion, and risk losing his farm, or should he stay, and try to defend it when the Queen’s soldiers came? Because come they would, he could be sure of that. And what could he, an untrained farmer, hope to accomplish against veteran soldiers? In his heart, Wallace knew what he should do, but he was still reluctant to do it. This should be an easy choice, he thought to himself, and yet, what if I can’t find the rebels? Or worse, what if Galainir’s soldiers catch me before I’m able to find them? Wallace sighed again, and pushed away from the stable wall.
He knew that if he didn’t try to help take back his country, he’d never be able to live with himself, but, he wasn’t going to leave his farm unguarded.
His friend Bill, who owned a slightly larger farm near Wallace, would probably be willing to watch his farm for a while. Wallace walked the half-mile to Bill’s farm, and asked Bill if he’d be willing to watch his farm for a couple of weeks.
“Course,” Bill said. “Where are you going’?”
“Oh, down to Durrough to look at getting some more chickens.” Wallace lied. He felt bad lying to Bill, but if Galainir’s soldiers questioned Bill, the less he knew, the better.
“Okay. Would you look at some goats for me?” Bill asked, which put Wallace in a awkward position. If he said yes, than he would either have to go to Durrough, and come back, and risk getting caught, or say no. And if he said no, then Bill would get suspicious. But, Wallace realized, there was a way around that, and he took it.
“If they have them,” he said, “then I’ll look.”
“Thanks.” Bill said gratefully. “I’ll check on your farm at least once a day. How’s that sound?”
“Great.” Wallace said. “Thank you Bill.” Bill nodded good-bye, and turned away, heading back towards his house. Wallace walked back to his own farm, ate dinner, and went to bed early.
The next morning, Wallace ate a hurried breakfast, packed some camping gear and food, grabbed his recurve bow and quiver, and went outside. He saddled Dasher, and mounted up, riding out towards the main road. When he got to the road, Wallace turned in the saddle, and looked back, for one last glimpse of his farm. Then, hoping it wasn’t the last time he saw his farm, he turned Dasher’s head east, and rode away.
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To be continued!
A trilogy I've started, it stars a new LCC side character, Wallace Rand.
Transformation of A Farmer, Part One; The Choice
----------------------------------------------------------------------
“What should I do?” Wallace Rand asked Dasher, his pure white horse. Dasher tossed her head, and nickered.
“I thought so.” Wallace sighed, and leaned wearily against the stable wall. He was a man of medium height, with shaggy, dark blond hair. He owned a small farm, on the edge of a village named Cragfall. His farm was a modest one, with a garden, main house, stable, and a chicken hut. It was a peaceful and solitary life he led, only broken up by hunting trips, and occasional visits to Cragfall’s market, but lately he had begun to wonder how much longer it would last. Word was coming from all over Roawia of the new Queen’s cruelty, and everyone was terrified of her. Consequently, her soldiers could pretty much take whatever they wanted, and Wallace knew it only a matter of time before they found his farm and took all his belongings, and, if he tried to resist, his life too. It made him mad just thinking about it.
Wallace had heard rumors that there was a rebel group, led by none other than Sir Haymar Glen, hiding somewhere in the Dragonscale mountains. He wanted to go join them, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave his farm unguarded, which brought him to his current dilemma. Should he go join the rebellion, and risk losing his farm, or should he stay, and try to defend it when the Queen’s soldiers came? Because come they would, he could be sure of that. And what could he, an untrained farmer, hope to accomplish against veteran soldiers? In his heart, Wallace knew what he should do, but he was still reluctant to do it. This should be an easy choice, he thought to himself, and yet, what if I can’t find the rebels? Or worse, what if Galainir’s soldiers catch me before I’m able to find them? Wallace sighed again, and pushed away from the stable wall.
He knew that if he didn’t try to help take back his country, he’d never be able to live with himself, but, he wasn’t going to leave his farm unguarded.
His friend Bill, who owned a slightly larger farm near Wallace, would probably be willing to watch his farm for a while. Wallace walked the half-mile to Bill’s farm, and asked Bill if he’d be willing to watch his farm for a couple of weeks.
“Course,” Bill said. “Where are you going’?”
“Oh, down to Durrough to look at getting some more chickens.” Wallace lied. He felt bad lying to Bill, but if Galainir’s soldiers questioned Bill, the less he knew, the better.
“Okay. Would you look at some goats for me?” Bill asked, which put Wallace in a awkward position. If he said yes, than he would either have to go to Durrough, and come back, and risk getting caught, or say no. And if he said no, then Bill would get suspicious. But, Wallace realized, there was a way around that, and he took it.
“If they have them,” he said, “then I’ll look.”
“Thanks.” Bill said gratefully. “I’ll check on your farm at least once a day. How’s that sound?”
“Great.” Wallace said. “Thank you Bill.” Bill nodded good-bye, and turned away, heading back towards his house. Wallace walked back to his own farm, ate dinner, and went to bed early.
The next morning, Wallace ate a hurried breakfast, packed some camping gear and food, grabbed his recurve bow and quiver, and went outside. He saddled Dasher, and mounted up, riding out towards the main road. When he got to the road, Wallace turned in the saddle, and looked back, for one last glimpse of his farm. Then, hoping it wasn’t the last time he saw his farm, he turned Dasher’s head east, and rode away.
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To be continued!
