 |
| |
|
|
Paddy the Scot
|
 |
Hordeland
Mar 2001
time: 14:30
|
|
We were such a quiet people, one main town and several villages in the surrounding valley. Peace was our name, we knew of other people outside of our valley, we knew the tinkers that caravan through occasionally, yeah, and we got news of the outside world. Yet our beloved elders never pictured the year of death.
They came over the back hills, they slaughtered us; like the sheep at midweek roast. At the final count, more than half of our population were dead, fields destroyed forever, roads torn up, they even caved in our black rock mine; it was all such a mess.
We learnt well from this time. The people decided that we would not be caught like that again. Good call.
We took their weapons and armour. We fashioned more of our own. There was a lot of anger and sadness throughout the people. Revenge was a hot subject for quite some time. This led to the big question of the year; revenge upon whom?
For the first week, we were shocked pretty badly. We fortified ourselves in the remaining part of town, sending our small parties to scavenge materials that we needed from our own homes and stores, as if we were the invaders. This was not a long-term issue. We were soon to understand that there were no more of these fierce warriors coming.
Then we had to come out of the hole we had that was our fort. It was time for us to take stock and then rebuild our lives, our fields, and homes. The spirit of the clan is what saved us in the end. We were all so used to helping each other with our chores that we soon got the shelter and food organised. The big picture was to take longer, but we got stuck into it. The fields were replanted, the black rock mine reopened, and scouts posted on several vantage points around the valley. We considered ourselves warned, and bloody lucky to survive.
All of this took a lot of hard work, and it was several seasons until we were able to rebuild my favourite place in the whole valley. It is “The Bird Club”, a comfortable place to sit and enjoy the evening over a long brew or three. This is where a good meal can be prepared, a long drink indulged, or you can just sit back and smoke your favourite pipe, all the while feeling relaxed and settled. The Bird Club was another casualty, burnt to the ground, the lawns were a mess, and the prized gardens looked more like a bog after the battle had finished. That entire side of town had been decimated. Yet the skill and desire of the people to restore that which we had to its glory was not to be dismissed. As I said, it was not all completed in one year, but here we are several good seasons later, late week eve, cold brews in hand, and steaks on the fires. Ahh I live in paradise. To sit back here and look out over the back valley into the snow capped ridges, what a beautiful sight. The sun is setting and the back colouring sets the snow to a fantastic purple gold hew.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Paddy the Scot
|
|
Hordeland
Mar 2001
time: 14:30
|
|
The caravan slowly made its way into the valley. News of its arrival spread like wild fire. People all over laid down their tools and made their way to the main road. Usually we cheered in these hearty travelling folk. Today we gathered as mourners, even acting suspiciously about them.
We turned the Tinkers caravan into a wain of our own people. You could actually see the Tinkers getting nervous as we followed them into town. It did not take long for news to pass between the two groups. The procession came to a stop on Marlow’s Rise, for here you had a good view of “Home Town”. Here the devastation could be clearly seen, you could see the new, the old, and the still to be fixed sections.
We have a park especially preserved for our travelling friends, and here they set up there workshops. The blessings that poured forth were amazing, the opportunities for growth. Ah tinkers, some say that these Gypsy people are a blight on our way of life, but I so believe that they are such a blessing.
It was good to have our Black Rock mine operating again. To have heat in the cold times, to have light at night, the wonders and power of Black Rock. It almost makes me want to find out what else there is in these hills that we could use.
The tinkers taught us the fine art of Ironing out a different ore from our mountains, thus producing a strong metal. From this Ironing, many other art forms were able to establish themselves. We were able to develop far better tools for in our mines, for working our fields, even for eating our daily meals.
Of all of the tools that we created, it was the redesigning of the axe that most impressed my family. We now had a strong blade, a lasting blade, and from this, my families’ trade was to develop and grow.
Eventually when the caravan was to move on, a proportion of them stayed, and integrated themselves into our communities. We would not only survive, but we would thrive.
Yet we had not forgotten the attack on our way of life. A group started to gather regularly to exercise and train in many different fighting forms. All of the people were invited to join in if they so desired. The hardest parts of these meetings were the number of people being really hurt through these exercises. Yet, we did not want to be caught in any such attack again.
It was not long before we started to organise these people into groups. From there it all tumbled together. Now we have several strong fighting bands, each of whom has differing areas of responsibility. They have even started a colour coding for themselves. Next they will start a footy team each if we are not too careful, haha.
Band One are responsible for keeping the town and immediate field’s safe.
Band Two look after the watchtowers and the main pass into the valley.
Band Three have to watch over the outer villages and the Black Rock mine.
Band Four have been sent to explore the regions out from our valley.
Time passes well for our people, we grew and planted and spread into our valley. It was only a few more years and the first of our little villages blossomed into a nice large town, which we call “Rivers Place”. Here we build a temple to our God, a marketplace, even a series of warehouses especially to store the produce from the fields.
Then the herald circulated the great news:
“I am proud to announce that here in “Rivers Place”, we today have Banded together a new group of people. A Band to meet the growth and coming of age of “Rivers Place”. Let me tell you about “Band Five”.
The pageantry was fantastic. The coming of age of a town, even adding a new Band. They had the task of protection of “Rivers Place”. The townsfolk were so proud of them that they built them a special training facility, somewhere that was available 24 hours a day for them to train and hone their skills.
Now rivalry is one thing, but one town out doing another, oh the looks of us “Home Towner’s” as we wandered through this new facility, the remarks, the desire. Ha, there was even a touch of Jealousy. It was only to be a few short months, before Home Town had a fine facility available for use of “Band One”.
This led the Elders to step in and start a further step in the structure of the Bands. Here the Blue’s were created. They took a leading member of “Band Three”, an old red haired rascal called Stym. He was promoted to be the main Blue. Stym in turn chose a team to assist him. It became the Blue’s job to coordinate the Band’s training, deployment and supplies. Thus from this time on the leader of the Band’s has been called the “Blue”.
In the coming years, we founded another six towns through out the valley. Along with this came a further nine new Bands. Six were allotted to town protection, one was added for valley protection, and the other two were sent out into the wilds. With this came more importance of the Blue, and a bigger team supporting him in his endeavours.
Throughout this period “Blue” started to rotate the bands in their functions. This allowed the Bands to get a feel for all of what was required for protecting all of our people.
In following years, we fought off several more packs of scavengers and raiding parties of various types. This just proved how valuable the Bands were to us. In addition, our Bands were able to track a few back to their bases and relieve them of their way of life.
Still the people flourished. We grew happy; we brewed our beer, smoked our pipes and watched great games of footy at the end of our work days.
Yet, bliss can be so deceitful.
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
SKILORD
|
 |
Live free or Die
Mar 2002
time: 05:30
|
|
quote:
Ah, its good to see the aproval of this story by the "big two" and I, a person who never posts in replies to stories gives it two thumbs up so far |
I have a lot of trouble with dealing with myself as a figure of any sort of seniority, I don't know why.
For that reason I find anyone referring to me as one of the 'big two' as rather amusing, I'm not asking it to stop, simply noting that I would not think of myself as so important at all.
Paddy:
You do a good job in this story as far as the big picture is concerned, ie, you get the idea across. However you still need to work on details, details are the writing. Notice details that others don't and bring them out, don't pour the light on every nuance so as to overwhelm your reader, but rather shine light where you want the reader to see.
quote:
but I so believe that they are such a blessing.
|
This is your only other problem, minor faux pases every now and again, make sure you read every piece back over to ensure that it sounds like you want it to.
I quite enoy the story, my hat's off to you for your work here.
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
Paddy the Scot
|
|
Hordeland
Mar 2001
time: 14:30
|
|
The world was greater, far more comprehensive than we could imagine. There were peoples in far places with amazing languages. Over the years, we met civilizations through our explorations, and had various wanderers through our lands.
Our closest neighbours are a people with a strange tongue, the Français (French). They are happy sort of folk. They taught us the value of good bubbling wines, how to built solid fortifications for our sentries around our valley. We in turn shared our brews, our Black Rock from our hills, and even the Ironed metal weapons of our Bands.
These hearty folk invited us to visit their capital, to come stay in their Palais du Royales (Palace of the Royales). Our spirits rose in meeting more of these people.
Their city was a place of wonder. The people were out everywhere celebrating our arrival. They had parades, feasts, banners, and celebrations to welcome us.
The evenings were filled with amazing shows of beautiful exploding lights in the sky, great feasts and more and more of the amazing French liquors.
By the fourth day, we were passed out in exhaustion; we were like creatures of the night. Wandering the halls of the palace with hung heads and baggy eyes. Ohh the words of our mothers rang so true, you party, and then you pay…
The young Princes were so cute, so friendly and caring. They were more diligent in serving our meals those days than the serving people. They really helped us through our hangovers.
Now I like thick toasted bread in the morn, preferably covered in a good butter and berry jam. Yet these folk would temp us with such delicate pastries, of such exquisite tastes. These recipes would cause quite a stir in the valley. The secrets of whipping cream into a fluff, so that it is so light and just sits on the crepe, amazing, and given with a laugh and a smile.
Our trade deal was a high point of the entire journey. All parties felt like winners, after all, real trade is good trade. Yet I believe that I got the best of the lot. For two of my Grandfathers hand crafted battleaxes, I got a beautiful Golden Retriever ***** (Female Dog), and her litter of pups. In my visit to the city, I had discovered that dogs are great, and we did not have any at home. Trapper is her name, and if her pups grow to anything like her, then I am one blessed Axe Grinder.
We stayed for several weeks, building great relationships, gathering new deals, investigating their society. Yet all good things do end, and our time to travel home came quickly.
Over the coming years, we built a good and solid relationship with these people. As I sit here in the "Bird Club", enjoying my pipe and brew, I can quite honestly say that I believe that this has truly benefited both our people groups.
Oh, and I now have Trap, and six of the finest dogs in the valley.
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
Paddy the Scot
|
|
Hordeland
Mar 2001
time: 14:30
|
|
. . .
- - -
. . .
That was the only message that came down the great wire.
Our friends were calling us to “Save Our Souls”.
With no other details, “Blue” sent out three Bands of scouts in the direction of “La France”.
To reinforce the scouts, two flying columns were quickly called to arms. The first consisted of three of our beloved Horse Bands. The second, which would follow a little slower, consisted of three Axe Bands, and two Bands of Field (a mixture of farmers, miners and artisans). We could only presume what sort of trouble there was.
“Blue” had the scouts on the way instantaneously, the Horse and the Foot within 36 hours of notification. All of his drills and standards for mobilization were such a splendid sight to see in action. We now had eleven Bands on the road to face an unknown situation.
“Blue” Holly set out with the Horse. She, and her team, would have overall field control of the flying columns. Her youth and vibrancy would be surely missed around the “Bird Club”, but we were proud to cheer her on as they rode out of town, heading for “La France”.
The council met, and it was decided that a larger column would be prepared and sent to our most northern township. They would consist of a mixture of Horse, Foot, Archers, and Field Bands. Not knowing what was going on was no reason not to have some good resources available to assist our friends.
“Save Our Souls” - in our treaties, this was the highest call we had for trouble. That there was no further communication of any sort was not good.
Could it be a sickness? Could it be another of the exploding mountains? On the other hand, were those cantankerous Germans on the warpath?
The Council spent a series of cold nights waiting for word. Passion is not something our people lack. There were some fiery discussions at those meetings.
“Blue” was calm in his resolve. Everything took place very methodically. The third column marched within days. There was no shortage of people who wanted to help the French.
The “Bird Club” was a little quiet in the following weeks, as we awaited word.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Paddy the Scot
|
|
Hordeland
Mar 2001
time: 14:30
|
|
quote:
Originally posted by SKILORD
Good additions.
To elaborate on my point about faux pases: Every now and again, not frequently, but often enough to be cited, you will throw us a phrase that seems improper to the reader (Tore up roads, for example in chapter 1) I am pretty sure that these are evident if you read the chapter over again to yourself.
I saw none, btw, in the last 2 chapters. |
Skilord, thank you for further elaborating.
I think that I can now see what the issue is, and I believe that it is a good issue with the Civ community.
I believe that it all comes down to using our own languages to suit our own requirements.
I am from Australia, and although the Language we speak is English, we have been away from England for over 200 years, so our language, nuances etc has evolved quite separately.
I can understand what you are saying, but where I come from, that is the way my family, my clan, my community talk.
The difference in our civilizations is evident here, I love the way this works.
If I have really missed the point, please do not hesitate to let me know. It is my intention to learn, to grow, and hopefully develop my writing further.
|
|
| |
|
| |
All times are GMT. The time now is 05:30.
Apolyton Time is 00:30. |
top of page
|
|
|
Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts
|
HTML code is ON
vB code is ON
Smilies are ON
[IMG] code is ON
|
|
|
|
|
|
29-08-2003 13:00
|