The Last Stand

Disclaimer-Xardalas owns all characters in this Book/Chapter and you may not use them without his consent. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is merely coincidental.







                                                      Chapter 1 The Beginning Of The End







    The men on the walls stir as they look across at the vast army camping around the edges of the forest, their small campfires flicker as the wind blows. The men shivering a little in the cool night air. Up in the top tower of their fortress sit's their Lord. The firelight causing the shadows to flicker around the Lord's face. His dark brown hair matted around his head with only a few stands of fine grey hair visible. His blue eyes shining in the light from the fire, giving him a surprising youthful look. His thoughts etched on his face as he complementates the decision of sending away most of the women and children in the fortress. His eyes darkening as he remembers the painful decision to send his family as well as his men's away for their own safety. He knew they would arrive at his brother's castle safely because he had sent a large portion of his castle's guard to make sure they arrived safely. He had stayed behind to organize the small force of guards he had left to his castle's defense, hoping to hold back the vast army long enough for his family to get away safely. He is pulled from his dark thoughts as he hears the door to his chambers open. "Milord".



    A young man bows before his Lord, his chainmail clinking softly as it brushes against his pants. A small shield strapped to his left arm and a sheathed short sword hanging at his side, the young man clears his throat before softly saying "Milord" once again.



    The lord turns and looks at the young man, his clear blue eyes seeming to peer straight into the man's soul. He softly asks "Yes? What is it Sir Alan?" His words are softly spoken yet spoken like a command.



    Alan gulps softly and his hands play with each other nervously as he fidgets slightly, meeting his Lord's eyes. He stiffens hearing his Lord's question and he hastily replies "Milord...The Viisti army camped outside our gates has broken their camps and appears to be making preparations for an assault on us." His voice quivering a little as he finishes speaking.



    The Lord nods slowly as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his matted hair, closing his eyes and sighing softly. Looking distinctly old beyond his years before standing up and opening his eyes, a fierce determination gleaming in them. His voice calm and confident as he tells Sir Alan "Alan. Tell the Sergeant to prepare his men to repel a assault. And....Send for servants to help me with my armor." Seeing Sir Alan hesitating he snaps at the young man "Go! Now Boy!".



    Sir Alan darts from the room, halfway down the hallway before the door closes behind him. He runs throughout the castle, shouting at the top of his lungs "All men to the walls! All men to the walls! Prepare to repel invaders!" He stops running and pauses to catch his breath, eyeing to servants standing by the sides of the corridor. He snaps at them "You two! Head over to the Lord's chambers right away! Assist him and putting on his armor." Sir Alan watches them scurry away before hurrying and carrying out his Lord's orders.



    The Lord glances at the servants and walks over to a beautifully made dark oak cabinet and opens their doors, revealing a set of thin chainmail, leather padding and a expensive looking set of dark, steal chainmail, a golden trim on the edges of it. He waves his servants over and they pick up the leather padding as he holds his hands out. The servants quickly strip their Lord of his clothing and then they fit the flexible leather padding over him, adding the layer of thin chainmail over the leather padding before finally adding the dark steel chainmail over it all. The servants pick up his sword belt and attach the empty sheath to it before sliding it over him and attaching it diagonally across his back. He watches as they pick up his gauntlets, neckpiece, and his chainmail helm sliding them all on over him and fastening them securely.



    He takes a few steps around the room and moves his arms around, making sure everything is securely fastened, he nods satisfied that everything is secured before dismissing his servants. He glances at the great Claymore hanging above his fireplace, small nicks and scratches running along its impressive blade and its simple hilt and grip are worn out by the generations of use by his family. He walks over to it and takes it down from it's resting place, feeling it's familiar weight in his hands before chuckling softly and quietly speaking "I had hoped...that I would not need to use you again my old friend..." He shakes his head sadly before strapping the massive claymore onto his back and walking out of his chamber.