Icebound - Chapter 1
#3 of Icebound
Chapter 1 of Icebound
Shadowdale, 1372 DR. 6th day of Highsun.
"Hold the line! Don't let them get through!" bellowed Bran, Aiden's father. The townsfolk were running out of their houses, rapidly throwing on bits of armor and hastily grabbing weaponry. The brigands had struck without warning from the forest to the southeast a few minutes ago. Already several of the local townsfolk lay dead, and several houses on the southeastern side of town were burning.
As Aiden looked around, he saw that the townsfolk had managed to rally on the south side of town near Mother Tara's festhall and formed a ragged line and were, surprisingly, holding the brigands back. Or perhaps not so surprising considering that many retired adventurers lived in the tiny town of Shadowdale, he thought.
Aiden turned to his younger brother and said "We'll make sure that doesn't happen, eh?" a smirk plastered on his face as he bent his longbow to string it.
Norin flashed a smile in return and said "Aye. Would you do me a favor and try not to shatter too many arrowshafts? Those take time to make you know", as he strung his own longbow.
Aiden shook his head, still smiling. "Sorry. I'll try to make sure they don't roll over after I shoot them," he retorted.
The attack on the village had come as a complete surprise. Aiden, Norin, their mother Leda, and their father Bran had been sitting in the den after finishing supper only moments earlier, listening to the noise of rain falling on the roof. Their dog, Scruff had perked up his head, staring at the door, and Aiden went to open it, looking out into the rain. Faint shouts and screams could be heard from the south side of town. Their father had immediately bolted to the back of the house to get his old soldiering equipment, telling the boys to get their swords and bows. They had headed out, the boys following along behind, quickly reaching the middle of town where they were now.
Aiden finished stringing the massive reflex longbow that his younger brother had made for him last year, hoping the rain wouldn't damage it. It took a bit of work, seeing as the pull was so great that most boys in the village, even Scotti, Lord Mourngrym's son, couldn't get it to half-draw, much less full-draw. The only other boy who could draw it was the blacksmith's son, Surd, though the poor lad didn't know one end of an arrow from another.
He was proud of that, and more so since his brother Norin had made it for him. His brother had made dozens of pieces of quality furniture, as well as the occasional bow. The pieces that Norin had made all sold very well from what Bucko Hammerhand, the local carpenter and wainwright, had mentioned in conversations with their parents.
By the time Aiden finished stringing his bow, his brother Norin had strung his own bow and let two arrows fly already, both finding their marks amongst the darkly clad marauders. Despite spending most of his time indoors, Norin was still no slouch with a bow or blade, thanks to their father's instruction. Most of the townsfolk were similarly prepared.
Before the past few years of peace, Shadowdale had faced trouble for decades. Nearly twenty years earlier the town had been attacked by a trio of dragons, followed shortly by the First and Second Battles of Shadowdale. Between that, the monsters that came out of the ruins of Myth Drannor, and the occasional Drow raiding party, the dalesfolk knew how to fight. It didn't hurt that it was a retirement community for soldiers and adventurers. One couldn't visit the local tavern, Old Skull Inn, without overhearing a group of old treasure hunters, retired heroes, or veteran mercenaries swapping some of the more fantastical tales of their adventuring days.
Both of the brothers started launching arrow after arrow over the heads of the townsfolk. The villagers had formed a ragged shield wall across the south side of town, holding back the wave of bandits and raiders that were attacking. The mismatched armor the bandits were wearing, cobbled together from scraps of chain mail and leather, did nothing to stop the bodkin arrows that Aiden and Norin were using against them. The bodkin tips were over a hand long and razor sharp.
Their father had given them the bodkin arrows in case of an attack. They looked more like small daggers on the end of a stick than proper arrows. They certainly were effective, Aiden thought as one of his arrows whistled through the air, piercing the faceplate of an iron helm with a crunch. The raider's battlecry was cut abruptly short.
Something on the back of Aiden's neck tingled for a second, and he looked up into the sky above the raiders, covering his eyes against the rain with one hand. His mouth dropped open for a second, stunned, as he looked up into the air. Someone in dark robes was flying over the town, nearly invisible against the thunderclouds in the evening sky.
He nudged his brother and pointed up at the man floating in the air. As they watched, the mage raised a dark staff above his head, and a lightning bolt slammed from the heavens into the militia shield wall. It instantly incinerated one of the Dalesfolk defenders in a flash of white brighter than the sun, sending nearby townsfolk and raiders alike flying backwards. The thunderclap cracked through the air for miles.
They raised their bows in tandem, aiming at the floating sorcerer. Both their arrows sang through the sky, their hiss as deadly than any snake's. As the brothers watched, the arrows shattered mere feet from the mage. The wizard looked down directly at them, a sneer clearly visible on his face and raised his staff again. As his brother pulled out another arrow and raised his bow again, Aiden felt his muscles freeze and a chill ran down his spine. A command echoed through his head like the voice of an angry god, malevolence lacing every word: "KILL HIM."
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Aiden felt his left hand reach across his waist for the shortsword that hung at his hip. As he realized what was happening, he desperately tried to stop it, to do anything besides pull the blade from its sheath. A cold sweat sprung out on his forehead as his hand hesitated for a second, as he struggled to keep from drawing his weapon.
Despite everything he could do, the sword slid free with a steely rasp. The sound rang in his ears, the screams around them seemingly muted in comparison. Aiden watched helplessly, feeling like a prisoner in his own body, as the sword came out of the scabbard. He tried to drop the blade, to yell, to do anything to somehow warn his brother as he turned and stepped into a lunge. His thrust was perfect from the hundreds of hours spent practicing under his father's tutelage.
Norin let the second arrow fly, just as the razor honed steel entered his side, slicing up toward his heart. He dropped the bow, reaching down to feel the sword hilt protruding from his side, astonishment and bewilderment in his eyes. His knees buckled under him as he realized he'd been stabbed.
Aiden felt the compulsion leave him as he knelt there, still in a lunge. He reached out to catch his brother as he fell. "What have I done?" Aiden asked as he grabbed his brother's shoulders.
Norin stared back at him, slack-jawed, his shirt and pants rapidly turning red. Blood dripped from the sword's handle, and he reached down with both hands to try to pull the blade out. "Brother, why...?", Norin said.
Aiden could only stare in horror as his brother inched the sword from his side. As the blade slid free with a rush of crimson, his brother coughed, spraying blood across them both. "Norin! No! I couldn't...it wasn't...I'd never hurt you..." Aiden's voice trailed off.
Aiden watched, helplessly, holding his brother's shoulders, as Norin gasped for breath. After what seemed like an eternity, his brother's head slowly leaned forward and his breathing quieted. Norin had just died in his arms. Tears began to roll down his face, mixing with the raindrops, as he pulled his brother's body close. It was impossible. He would never have done anything to hurt his brother. The walls around him blazed with light as another crack of thunder ripped through the night sky.