Prelude to a Dream

Text-only Version: Click HERE to see this thread with all of the graphics, features, and links.

Dragon Bard

The sound of crickets chattering stained the fresh night's aura. It was an anomaly that had continued to rise in rebellion against the Sun, as it's last rays of warmth bathed the land in strips, broken by the trees that stood guard on the horizon. A lofty breeze blew across the field, it's touch as timid as a newborn baby, as it softly churned the grasses and leaves in unison. The place smelled of earth, fresh dirt and the sweet smell of a late summer honeysuckle that filled the lungs with an entrancing, homely smell.

This place was familiar. The trees, the warmth, the ambiance, all of which played soft melodies against the senses, urging their masters to flow with the serenity, to glide with the pleasantry. The perfect place to nap, to sleep, and to never wake up. The Western Vale of Cloudon... Such a dream.

Dream... Dream... Awake??

"Hey you! Wake up! You don't want to die do you?"

"I said get you ass up!"

A stout hand grasped his tunic and his body screamed in protest against the forces as he was lifted to his feet. The pain was immediately replaced by confusion. Was he not just in cloudon? What's going on?

New sounds drifted into the ear of this one. Once wondrous melodies that tickled his inner machinations had been replaced with the screech of metal on metal, of vigorous yells, and of the moans and screams of what seemed to be dying people. It smelled of burnt flesh, leather of something that he could only describe as rotten corpses. As his eyes adjusted to the level of light that jabbed at them, he realized where he was.

Two days had passed since the execution of the King. Two long and arduous days of rebellion that had been initiated with the bloody coup. The rebels, upstarts and prisoners of past wars, had somehow obtained freedom, weapons and armor, and the will to fight. The mastermind, though not known as of now, was clearly supposed to be an ally to the late king. As the troops of the city had been pushed back, it was his job, Sir Charles Bastion, to lead the rear defense in respect to the retreat situation.

As they had made their way to the city gates, there was an ambush. Charles, one of the last mounted knights left in the city, was immediately attacked, leading to him being cast from his mount, being rendered unconscious by some misplaced piece of cobblestone from and earlier road project.

Checking his strength, Charles immediately analyzed the situation. His knights had successfully fended off the first wave of the ambush, contrary to the surprise inflicted on them all, and had slowly began to retreat to the gates, flanked on either sides by ambushers and would-be rebels, and at the cost of many lives. Quickly, he searched for a means of defense, eager to rejoin his men in their attempt to flee, as the second wave slammed head on into the procession.

Bodies flew past him, the initial speed of the pursuers pushing back the line of lightly armored knights. Screams erupted as men lost their physical wills to live, an induced feeling brought on by the knick of a blade through the heart, or a bolt through the eyes. The knights were not defenseless, however, as they quickly recovered and rebuilt the line. They were fighting a losing battle, but they knew they could not afford to lose.

Finding a discarded dai-katana, Charles tested the weight against his strength. It would be a little slower than he was used to, but dire situations like the one at hand rarely called for complaints on such minute conflicts of morality.

It was his job to give these men a chance at survival, and it was entrusted to him by the King himself to get the crown out of the kingdom.

Enraged at his own stupidity for not seeing an ambush, Charles barked "Fall back, Front line, steadfast and stand strong, second line cover our sides... Rear line pick up the pace, we're dying here. Archers, send volleys flying in the directions we're heading. there are too many behind us, but you may be able to help the advance. Colonel, i'm counting on you to get me to those gates, damn it!"

Suddenly aware of their commanders status, the Knights immediately responded, their morality heightened and their spirits reinvigorated at hearing their commandant's orders. running forward to assist the forward line, Sir Charles Bastion yelled his battle cry, raising the dai-katana as if to rid the whole battlefield of his enemies. Blood rushed to his head as the adrenaline of battle pumped through his veins. Yelling once more as his blade came down, its cleaving arc catching his nearest victim across his neck, then continuing through until the man no longer had a head attached to his neck, the real battle had finally commenced.


Please enjoy this prelude as it marks the beginning to an exciting story. This just happens to be something that I came up with to come up with, written as I went along, and edited to only a very small portion of what it should be edited to. I appreciate all thoughts and ideas as well as Muffins and COOKIES!!! Yes, I do believeth I am a fat man.

Anyways, enjoy my exciting Prelude to a Dream.

Pretty durn good work, Wes.

Dragon Bard
Chapter One:

A Kingdom Divided

The kingdom of Avalon, previously a prosperous country in the southern reaches of Britannia, now lay in ruin in these, the darkest of times. With the death of King Leopold IV of Cloudon at the hands of a rebellious cult 4 years ago, the kingdom collapsed. With no heir, nobles and warlords alike took to the path of war to claim what they suspected as rightfully their own. The crown of Britannia, and the Sword of the Fathomless Light, the two symbols of royalty in the country.

Battle after battle, war after war they fought, the strongest factions preying on the weak, mercenaries being bought like food to further their masters' causes, and reeking havoc to the once orderly social habitat.

Eventually, lords and nobles lost their funding and their armies, due to lack of generated income and only the smartest and strongest of the factions survived. In time, even they fell, leaving a desolate, impoverished wasteland in their wake. A once peaceful and friendly nation quickly became a home to traitors, terrorists, and opportunists, each looking for the sacred treasures, and each sticking with themselves.

When treasures were found, often battles sprung up between the credited adventurer and their own bodyguards, who's greed surpassed that of what they were getting payed. Former official military, or that of the nobles, now sought out work as mercenaries or bodyguards, leaving their once glorious lifestyles behind to survive in the current situations.

Countries that once were allies to this great nation pulled out their support, and looked with apathy on the destruction that took place. The once weak enemies of the great nation now seek to control whats left, and armies march to the capital, home of the last great faction, Illuminous Bravados, whom have made the place their home.

But, in the distance, there is still hope. In a lonely village on the outskirts of Terrenor, a border nation of Avalon, rest a group of men and women, whom have devoted their life to regaining the city, the grandeur, and the throne that they once possessed... This group, once the sworn protectorate of the king, has now found themselves recruiting anyone who will hear their words to do a number of services that could aid them. This group, the Knights of the Round, seek a path to glory, redemption, and freedom. Will their bravery in the face of adversity prove to be the glue that is needing to repair the broken country? Or could they be destroyed before they ever got a chance to act?

Only time will tell... Only time.


(To be written shortly)

Text-only Version: Click HERE to see this thread with all of the graphics, features, and links.