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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1757000
At the last moment, before Don can leave Troma, the town falls under attack again!
Chapter 6: Invasion and Departure



As soon as Don had left his house, with his small bag of money in one hand, he immediately ran to the nearest store, making plans in his head.  He needed basic provisions, of course.  He needed a safe place to sleep and some means of navigating the wilderness, and he needed a bag to store it all in.  It was mid-afternoon, and it was the shop's busiest hour, but Don made his purchases quickly, starting with a bag to carry his things, which cost three gold bits.  It strapped over his shoulders nicely, and could be tightened by small, iron buckles.

After that, Don found a book that had been written for tourists traveling to other parts of Gram.  He paid five bits for it, because it was full of maps and descriptions of the major industries of each of the towns in Gram.  After that, he paid another two bits for a compass and fifteen for a basic tent set, consisting of a single woven sheet and a few poles and stakes to attach it to the ground with.  It was designed to keep out rain and snow, although it wouldn't have offered Don much protection from oppressive temperatures.  Eventually, though, he decided that he'd have to worry about that later, and moved on to the next thing on his list.

"What's good for holding water?" Don asked, looking up at one of the store-hands.  He was a tall, slim boy with pitch black hair, and he looked a little surprised by the question that Don had just asked, but he'd clearly been working in that store since he was just a small boy himself, so the older boy responded quickly.

"The bottles are over here." the young man said, bringing one down to show it to Don.  It certainly looked like it would have been able to hold a lot of water, but it was surprisingly heavy, and Don couldn't think of any way to carry it, since it was too big for his bag.  Quickly, he handed the bottle back to the store-hand with a disappointed shake of his head.

"I'm looking for something a little smaller than that." Don said, "do you have anything light and easy to carry?"

"Are you planning on leaving town?" the store-hand asked in surprise.

"Maybe for a little while." Don replied, not really wanting to lie to him, "I do want to do some camping outside."

"Just a second, then." the young man said, looking very interested by the Don's plans, "Let me see what we have."

The young store-hand was gone for almost five minutes after that, and when he returned, he looked triumphant.

"This ought to last you a while," he said, handing Don a metal bottle, attached to a thin rope, "It's one of our lightest canteens, but it still holds quite a bit.  It should last for over ten years before it has to be replaced."

Don looked the canteen over.  It was thick and round, but with metallic rings built into the sides.  A thin rope was tied to those rings.  The canteen was obviously designed to be carried apart from any other baggage, and it certainly felt light enough when there was no water in it.  However, something that the store-hand had said made Don feel a little uneasy about it.

"Why would it need to be replaced?" Don asked as he held it in his hands curiously.

"Well, it's metal." the young man replied casually, "After about ten years of regular use, it'll start to rust, and you don't want to drink rust bits.  It's not safe."

That was true, of course, and it removed Don's doubts about buying the canteen, even though it cost him three more bits.  That left him with twenty bits in his money bag, but after thinking about it for a minute, he decided to buy some parchment, ink and a pen with two of those bits, then save the rest.  Of course, he'd pick up as much food and water as he could afford to carry with him just before leaving town, but there was one other thing that he wanted to do first.

Quickly, Don rushed back home and hid his recent purchases and the remainder of his money under the porch, then went inside.  He didn't see his father when he entered his house again, which probably meant that Sal was still working outside.  It was, he decided, just as well.  He quickly ran back out to the front porch, and pulled his writing materials from his bag, opening the ink bottle and spreading out a sheet of parchment on the porch of Sal's house.

"This message is from me; Don Deley," the note started, as was customary with most notes in Gram, "for my father; Salvatore Brookside.  I'm sorry, but I can't stay here any more.  I'm not getting any closer to my dream by living in Troma with you, so I decided to do some traveling.  Don't worry about me, because I'll be learning some really important skills, and I shouldn't have any trouble getting enough food.  Thank you for everything you've done for me.  I promise I'll come back some day.  Again, I'm sorry it had to be so sudden.  God bless you."

With that, Don folded up his note and left it inside the house, on the kitchen table.  Of course, at that point, the truth of his situation finally sank in; he really was leaving home.  He couldn't just change his mind anymore, but even if he could have, he knew that it wouldn't have made a difference.  Don just wasn't satisfied with his life in Troma.

There wasn't anything wrong with living a peaceful life, of course.  A peaceful life was a good and fortunate one, but it just wasn't enough unless he felt like he had what he needed to defend himself.  Even though Don knew that he'd be leaving the people he cared about behind; maybe even for years, he couldn't have stuck around or told anyone else about his plans.  Sal would only have tried to stop him.

Quickly, Don rushed back outside and seized his possessions, packing them all up, and slinging his bag and canteen over opposite shoulders.  After all of that time climbing trees with a basket of apples on his back, the weight of his equipment was, he realized in satisfaction, barely noticeable.  Aside from that, he just needed to reach the food center and pick up something to eat on his travels, gather some water from the fountain, then plan out the direction that he'd be traveling in.



Only a short time after he'd left his former home, Don's bag was full of fresh fruit, and he found himself just outside of town as the sun was setting, and the farmers had just returned home for the evening.  He didn't exactly like the idea of traveling at night, but he knew that he had to get out of range of Troma while no one was watching.

However, just as Don was starting to travel north from town, towards Gelem Castle, he felt a sense of worry travel through him in a wave, as the noise of the church bells reached his ears.  It wasn't a celebration, and it wasn't time for any church ceremony.  Someone was using the church bells to sound the alarm again.

For a moment, Don wondered if maybe Sal had found the note and raised the alarm somehow, but that was just silly.  Sal didn't have the authority to raise a town-wide alarm for anything that didn't threaten the immediate safety of the entire town.  Ordinary citizens could only sound the alarm if something was truly wrong.

Quickly, Don rushed back towards town and listened harder as the bells were rung.  In the pattern of those bells, just like in the blasts of the military horn, a message was hidden, telling all the citizens of Troma which parts of town to steer clear of.  To him, those bells were like a signpost, telling him where to go.  There was another threat approaching Troma, and once again, he knew that he had to be there during the attack.



Quickly, Don Deley ran across town to the eastern edge of Troma, where the attack was taking place.  It was a bad spot to attack from, because there wasn't any real cover in that area.  Most of the crops grown there were simple tomato plants.  To Don, that either meant that the invaders were so vicious that they didn't care about tactics, or else they believed that they were too powerful to be beaten, regardless.  Either way, it seemed like big trouble for the people of Troma.

Don knew that there still wasn't much he could do against an enemy incursion, but nevertheless, he ran quickly, until he arrived at the place where he could see the creatures that were attacking.  However, the new invaders looked a lot different from the ghouls that Don had seen before.

For one thing, the beings attacking Troma were bigger and more strongly-built than the ghouls that Don had nearly been killed by.  They'd definitely never been human.  Each was nearly seven feet tall, and they had big, broad shoulders and huge fangs.  Don recognized those kinds of beasts immediately.  He'd seen their dead bodies before, after the horrible battle in which his mother had died.  A small troupe of orcs had wandered into Troma, and they were already emerging from the fields, inches from the houses on that side of town.

Don knew that it would still be several minutes before the knights would arrive, and he also knew that the town's few guards were already advancing in an attempt to slow down the monsters as best they could.  However, he was sure that someone was going to get hurt; maybe even die before the day was over, because even if they tried as hard as they could, the guards of Troma just didn't have the power or skill that they needed to defeat the invaders without a single injury.

More than anything, at that point, Don wished that he could have fought the invaders himself.  It was a strong wish, made with every ounce of will that he had, and at that moment, something happened that he'd never felt before.

Don had been dreaming of becoming a knight for pretty much his whole life, but when it came down to it, he'd always been very much ruled by his feelings of ambition or aggravation over things in his life that hadn't gone right, and that had made it hard for him to focus on what he really wanted to do.  Don's feelings had been both a motivation and an obstacle in different ways, because of that.

However, in that moment, when he made one of the biggest and most sincere wishes that he'd ever made in his life, all of his attention was finally focused.  All of his thoughts were directed towards the solving of a single problem, and although he still felt furious and driven, those feelings weren't getting in his way anymore.  For the first time in years, Don Deley saw an enemy in front of him, and felt like he could think straight, and the moment that he started to think about his problem seriously, a plan began to form in his mind.

Don took a good look at the orcs, then at the guards, then after that, he looked at the landscape near the beasts and the houses that they were getting uncomfortably close to, and just like that, he saw his chance.  As he had during the previous attack, he scaled one of the houses by the supports on the front porch, reaching the roof quickly after that.

In a moment, Don had started to feel around on the roof's surface.  It was an old roof, in a pretty bad state of disrepair, and the old, shabby boards that made it up had been loosened by age and rainy weather.  The nails were about ready to pop out at any moment, and that was what he was counting on.

Quickly, Don removed a tent stake from his bag and drove it into the roof, yanking up one of the boards and putting it back down once he'd removed two nails from it.  With those nails in hand, he carefully took aim and threw one of them through the air at the rapidly-approaching orcs.

Don had never thrown a nail at anything in his life, and he'd been aiming for the creature's hand, but the nail veered off track in mid-air, striking the monster in the nose instead.  Don winced when that happened, because the orc had barely even been scraped by the flying nail, but it was obviously becoming very angry in a hurry.  As soon as the beast realized that it was under attack, it immediately looked up, towards him, and that was what he'd really been trying to accomplish.

The guards of Troma noticed the moment when the first of the orcs was distracted, and started rushing forward.  Quickly, one of them attacked with his spear, driving it into the beast's side, as two more orcs approached from behind the first.  Don tried to aim another nail, remembering what had happened to the first one, and trying to correct his aim based on that, but he was still inexperienced, and the nail wound up glancing off the leather garments that one of the creatures had draped over it.

Nevertheless, the badly-aimed nail had still served to distract another of the orcs, giving the captain of the guards the chance to impale it, as the two other guards moved forward, trying to corner the last of the monsters.  For a few moments, Don thought about going for more nails, or trying to throw the tent stake, but he knew there was no point.  He couldn't possibly have thrown the stake that far, and he wouldn't have had enough time to retrieve more nails.  He knew, as he sat on that roof, that there was nothing more for him to do, but watch the fight between the guards and the last monster.

Unfortunately, from that point on, the battle was a little painful to watch.  The guards were clearly determined, and had a marvelous resolve, but their technique didn't look anywhere near as functional as the one that the knights had used, nor did they seem as experienced in working together to execute battle plans.

In their place, Don might had approached the orc from two sides and attempted to circle around him, for the purpose of getting the chance to attack him from behind, but instead of doing that, the guards seemed to have approached mainly from the front, both with their spears outstretched, jabbing when they saw an opening and trying their best to hit something vital.  It was a genuine effort on their part, but their battle plan didn't seem to have been thought out very well.  Don felt pretty sad when he realized that, but it only supported him even more in his decision.  He couldn't learn to fight from anyone in Troma.

The red-haired boy could tell that his help during the battle had barely even been noticed by the guards.  Most likely, they'd thought that the flying nails had been the result of all the commotion, but unlike the orcs, they hadn't been stupid enough to get distracted from the battle by them.

In a lot of ways, Don decided, that was probably for the best.  He wasn't eager to draw too much attention to himself on the night when he was leaving town.  Quickly, he descended from the roof of the farmhouse, just as one of the guards finally succeeded in piercing the orc in a fatal spot on its torso.  However, as he was setting off for the north of Troma again, he nearly collided with Sharon head-on.

Don was stunned by the fact that Sharon was even there.  During an emergency, everyone but the guards and local military was supposed to take shelter in a safe house or basement.  That was the way the rules were set up.  He'd broken those rules a number of times because he'd wanted to understand the dangers of military combat, but as far as he could tell, Sharon had never felt that way before.

As she stood in front of Don, glaring at him, however, he remembered her words from earlier in the day; her threats to get in his way and stop him from leaving, and seeing her facing him boldly, just as the battle behind him had ended, he knew that she could very easily make good on those threats.  Still, he kept walking, trying to ignore her, and she, in turn, walked beside him in silence, keeping up with him extremely well.  The two were walking together for several minutes before they passed within twenty meters of Sal's house, and that was when Sharon finally decided to speak.

"If I started running now, I could tell your father what you're up to before you could leave town."

When he heard those words, Don sighed a little.  It made him feel pretty bad that Sharon was threatening him like that, but he knew that there was only one way to reply to that sort of thing.

"You know I can't stay here." Don said, miserably, "Now that the laws of Gram say I'm free to go where I want, I can't spend another day in this town, or else I'll just be wasting my time.  You could do a lot of things to keep me here for a day... a few days... a week, maybe two.  I'd have to leave eventually, though, and keeping me here for now won't make you feel any better when I finally get away.  You've gotta let me go, Sharon."

Sharon looked sick when Don said that.  She was obviously still having a hard time coping with his choice, and she still looked determined, but she also seemed to have realized that it was a battle she wasn't going to be able to win.  At last, when she spoke, she sounded just a little less sad, though certainly no less determined in the choice she'd made.

"When you told me you were leaving, I didn't want to believe it." Sharon muttered angrily, "I guess, even after all the times we talked, I never thought you really wanted to leave town.  Maybe I just didn't think about it seriously enough when we talked.  Maybe if I'd paid more attention, I would have noticed how important it was to you, but I was shocked when you told me you had to leave.  I mean, living in Troma, without being able to talk to you...  It just didn't fit into my world.  I really care about you, Don, but I know I can't stop you, and if I try to be selfish about this, I'm only going to hurt you in the end.  I don't ever want to see you get hurt, Don.  I realized that just now, when I saw you fighting those things.  That's why...  That's why I want you to promise me something."

For a few moments, neither of them spoke, but it seemed that Sharon was gathering up her courage to say something that was very difficult for her.  In a moment more, she made her request.

"I want you to promise that no matter what happens, no matter what you run into, you'll never throw your life away." Sharon said with a very stern look on her face, "I also want you to promise that if you make it through this thing, and become a knight, you're going to come back here in the end.  You helped protect everybody today, and... and I just want you to say we mean something to you.  Just say you'll live in Troma when this is all over with."

Don had been worried that the request would be unreasonable, but when Sharon asked him for that, a grin started to form on his own face as well.

"Yeah." Don replied quickly, "You don't have to worry about that.  I'll be back, alright.  I'm leaving because I can't learn what I need to here, but Troma's still the only home I have.  It's going to be alright."

After that, Don just smiled at Sharon a little and started walking back towards the north gate, hoping that she'd changed her mind about telling his father, but as he passed beyond the last of the buildings, towards the town's north end, he could have sworn that he heard the sound of quiet sobbing from behind him.



It was starting to get dark as Don looked north from Troma, towards the castle called Gelem far in the distance.  He knew that that castle was where the army kept its weapons and supplies; the place where knighting ceremonies were held, and the structure where most of the knights lived.  No one ever became a knight unless they'd been to Gelem at least once.

The knights protecting Gelem and the royal family, in fact, were some of the most talented, from what Don had heard, and he knew that if he wanted to know any more about them, that would be the perfect spot to head for next; particularly since it was less than a day's walk away from Troma.

However, Don didn't feel too good about walking that late at night.  It had started to get really dark out, and for a moment, Don wished that he'd bought a tinder box, in addition to all his other provisions, but it didn't really make much difference, because there was still enough sunlight to read the important words in his book.  The other towns and cities of Gram; with their specialties and major attractions, were all written down in that book, and it was all information that he knew he was going to need to make his decision about where to head next.

Of course, there were obstacles involved in going to any of the towns of Gram.  Each was a much greater distance from Troma than Gelem was.  In spite of what Mark had told Don about the variety of skills that people could be knighted for, he couldn't help but feel that he'd probably need at least some combat experience if he wanted to be a knight.

Because of that, the city of Arin, which was known for producing some of the most skilled fighters in the kingdom sounded like a tempting destination.  However, it was a walk of over two days to the northwest, and Gelem Castle was right between Troma and Arin.  It was, Don decided, the perfect opportunity to see the castle, the knights who protected it, and the place where they trained, and maybe find out more about the knighting process itself.

Don smiled as he held up his compass and started walking to the northwest.  He'd never gone more than a mile from Troma in his life, and for all he knew, there would be all sorts of dangerous monsters waiting for him, just outside of town, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling, because he was finally free to pursue his dream, no matter what anyone else said.  Whether Don's journey ended in knighthood, failure or even death, he couldn't have felt worried that night, because it was the start of his first real adventure.
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