Beaches Beginnings and Blood
Taken from the scrolls of Karrade.
Day 16
Pale moonlight, blood on the shore. Another friend fell over the bow. Waves lapping at the ruined small boat and spilled cargo. Three bodies lay strewn about, arrows nestled in the wood and boxes.
Heavy, his breathing was ragged as he ran, the arrow in his leg piercing and burning in every step. Where had they come from, how had they been waiting? The next coming hiss was distinctive, nothing he could do but run regardless, thank the gods the arrow missed. Sparing a glance backward, the three men chasing him were readying a third arrow, and gaining on his limped scurry.
Not going to make it…. Open beach as far as his eyes could see in this light. Back into the water? No time to think, that bowstring would soon be ready to go again, as if he could hear the tension from it expectantly, moving around to face them.
“Alright.” Karrade spat, drawing his steel with a distinctive twang. Facing eyes to a level, biting down on the pain and meeting the first axe raised his way. Too high, too keen, all that room before his young attacker drew it down, he didn’t get the chance. Karrade’s own sword jabbed out the smallest amount in his grip, walking forward, giving the axe no room to come down, and the man no breath to draw from his throat, falling sideways as his victim choked. It was clumsy but it got the job done. The killing blow wrestled with by failing hands, another unwelcome death on this black beach as they clasped their last.
Numbing, the adrenaline subsided, he'd never killed a man before... those red hands, he couldn't not watch, till the roar.
A roar bearing the second attacker's response, smashing Karrade with his round shield. Thrown against the shoulder as hard as any mallet, another burning sensation sending jolts into Karrade's back, likely shattering bone and spinning him about. His attacker was about to hit him again, but had no time. Karrade grabbed the shield as it came, flinging himself against it and looking to put his sword straight over the top, but this man wasn’t rushing in, he was older, wiser, you could see it in his eyes. That malicious glint, as he grabbed the flat of Karrade's probing blade and slammed the shield upward, shattering Karrade’s wrist in a howl.
It cost the shieldbearer a gash across his hand, but it almost cost Karrade his sword hand, weapon fallen to the side. The older man dropped his shield, looking to his dying friend at his side, and telling the third to lower his bow. It was obvious he wanted to shove his sword through the now unarmed southern personally.
Unarmed, raising his chin, standing as tall as the wounded leg would allow. It was short lived, Karrade stumbled back a step almost falling. Feeling sweat running down his cheek, the leg, the wrist, he was having trouble balancing upright. The older attacker stopped, looked at the fallen blade and kicked it back over….
Strange, he hadn't expected honor in the middle of this business, not from those who had set upon them in the dark. Pausing, he knew he couldn't win, but the old man motioned to the blade. Bending down slowly to comply, Karrade could throw sand in the others face, take the chance and jump at him?
CRACK
Oh well.
Whatever just hit Karrade over the back of the neck had decided it for him. As he fell to the sandy beach below, all he heard before blacking out, was something about chedder boots and blue seaweed.
Fin for Part 1.
Comments welcome, might do a part 2 in another thread.
