Chapter 1: Swords
Nyoob sat silently in his vehicle as it transported him to the battlefield. The rocky road made the cart he was in shudder and jump as it made it’s way through the winding roads.
As he travelled, Nyoob wondered about his life. He was a Scourer, which meant after any major battle, he and a large team of others would be sent to the battlefield the second the OK was given and check the area for any equipment or items that could be used again.
But Nyoob wasn’t exactly satisfied with this job. He wanted to be on the frontlines for the Gorontor Army, fighting with his fellow comrades.
Nyoob wasn’t a particularly patriotic person. In fact, the land of Gorontor meant very little to him, and he would probably move if he was given the chance. But his path of fate seemed to have lead him here. A Scourer wasn’t his ideal job, but it meant he was close enough to the army to be seen and heard, and maybe considered for the actual fighting, instead of analysing the aftermath.
The cart screeched to a halt, and everyone inside slowly got to their feet and stepped outside. The sun hit their faces and the stench of dead bodies and already exposed flesh entered their noses. Nyoob’s face creased at the familiar smell. In his first Scour, he vomited due to the overwhelming stench of warm corpse, but now he was finding his body becoming accustomed to it.
He set to work straight away. A normal day in his ordinary job. He picked up every bit of armour that could be used again, Gorontor armour could be placed back on the shelves, while Fr’ndCoda armour could be taken, melted down and then remade into Gorontor armour to put back on the shelves. He kept his head down and didn’t talk. The less distracted he was, the more work he got done, the more he’d get noticed.
After a few hours most of the Gorontor side of the battlefield had been taken care of. They were coming to the center, and the amount of Fr’ndCoda armour began to increase, while their own decreased. It looked as though they had arrived first, which meant they had to play their cards right. Leave to quickly and risk not getting enough stuff. Stay too long and the other team arrives, and another fight breaks out.
Nyoob slowly walked back to the cart to dump off an armful of swords he had managed to collect. He was doing really well, and had collected alot more than anyone else. He made his way back to the centre of the battlefield, knowing that he had to get as much as he could when coming back, as this would probably be his last run.
He stooped down and picked up two swords. One in almost prestine condition. “Great.” Nyoob thought to himself, and bagged it. The other had a huge chunk missing, not to mention the hilt was almost coming off. “No good” he decided and through it back to the ground. Looking up again, ready to grab as much as he could, he saw something glint, not too far in the distance. It seemed to have come from the very centre of the field, and far enough away from all the other Scourer’s to take a look, but not look suspicious. Checking over his shoulder to make sure his Officers weren’t looking, he quickly jumped over a pile of Fr’ndCoda soldiers and hurried towards the glinting object on the ground.
Once he got there, he realised what it was. The gleam was coming from the huge ruby embedded into the hilt of what seemed to be a Golden sword. He bent down and picked it up. It was beautifully made, and had hardly a dent or a scratch on it. Upon further examination, Nyoob could see a slight inscription down the blade. He squinted and finally managed to decipher what it said:
“King Cor.”
Nyoob gasped. He was holding Cor’s sword. The King of Fr’ndCoda’s sword was in his possession. He looked at it again, but this time, with much more care. He examined it’s every centimetre, the hilt, the blade itself, and the huge jewel. He couldn’t believe his luck. He smiled to himself. Until something startled him.
The inscription on the blade glowed red. The words ‘King Cor’ slowly vanished and was replaced with a new string of words. Nyoob stared in amazement as they curved their way along the sword, as if someone was in front of him, writing in beautiful handwriting:
“Go to Cor’s Castle.”
Nyoob gaped. It’s as if the sword was talking to him. Did it want HIM to return it to the castle? Was it waiting for anyone? How could he do it? He was Gorontorian, the second he stood on Fr’ndCoda land he would be taken to prison faster than he could sneeze. But at the same time he felt that he had to do what this sword was asking.
There was no way he could possibly get this sword past his officers though. Any attempt to hide it would probably mean losing his job, which he couldn’t afford.
“OIT!” Nyoob suddenly heard from behind him. He spun his head round to see his Officer fast approaching. “What are you doing? Didn’t you hear the bell being rung? The Fr’ndCoda Army will be here any second.”
Nyoob jumped up and turned, holding the sword firmly behind him, hoping it was hidden.
“What’s that you go there?” the Officer immediately said, pointing in between his legs with his own sword. “Damn.” Thought Nyoob. The blade of Cor’s sword was sticking out between his legs. Nyoob slowly brought the sword out to reveal it’s beauty.
“Blimey...” the Officer whistled. “That’s Cor’s sword!” He looked at Nyoob and smiled. “You’ll be paid handsomely for this find, I’m telling you mate.” He said. The Officer turned round and yelled out to his fellow Officer.
“Oit! Slink, come and have a –“ But that’s all he managed to get out. Nyoob had taken Cor’s sword and swung down, striking in between the neck and shoulder armour. Instant kill. The Officer slumped as his body hit the ground, and Nyoob saw beyond. Slink had already turned around and had seen everything. He unsheathed his sword and started running towards Nyoob.
Nyoob had no other choice. He picked up the Officer’s keys, knowing they would come in handy some way, turned tail and ran towards the only place he could think of. Fr’ndCoda.
Linear Mode
