AN UNWANTED WAR. the journey home

chapter one

CHAPTER ONE

Fifteen years is a long time. A long time to be wandering this war-ravaged world alone. Cast out by his tribe, which was the Adidpodos way when the son of the chief becomes of age. Obduran had seen and learnt much. No longer a scrawny, naïve boy, armed only with a bow and a dagger, not any dagger though. A ceremonial dagger imbibed with the blood of his ancestors. It was with a heavy heart that Obduran was finally making his way home to his village. Tradition dictates that after a welcome feast and festivities, the following morning he must sacrifice his father in front of the village to show he has become a man and is ready to lead the Adidpodos for another generation. And a man he was. Tall and powerful, nearly 7 foot tall and wider than the average man by half. Across his back was a huge broadsword, the handle crafted from the teeth of the first dragon he killed. Over his shoulder, the bow he had carried for all these years but now stringed with the heart of a giant horned mountain lion. Obduran had a trophy from each of his firsts. His necklace was made from various animal teeth, from the great fang of the water tigark to the tiny tooth of a squirrel, his first meal.

Obduran had travelled far and wide across Handonoa in his years of exile, he had seen what the war between the Fallstaffians of the east and the Iconocluds of the west had done. Great swathes of the land had been carved due to their continuous battles, with little regard for the people of those lands. Peace had reigned for centuries between the two largest kingdoms of Handonoa. Until prince Vinci took to the throne after his father died. King Vinci, highly ambitious, wanted to rule over the entirety of Handonoa. His first act in power was to send an envoy to king Laiclaw of the Iconocluds. Demanding he turn over his lands and recognise Vinci as the one true king of Handonoa. Naturally, he refused and sent the envoy back. Minus his head. This enraged Vinci. The envoy was his brother. And so began the war that raged for five long years.

Obduran witnessed many of the battles from a distance, this wasn't his war. His village was far in the north. Well out of the way of the petty squabbles of megalomaniac kings. The Adidpodos were a proud and fearless race. But they didn't get involved in the politics of others, they hunted and farmed and raised their families. They lived the simple life. They were larger than their neighbouring tribes. The Timorous tribe's lands were even farther north, they were a dwarven race, rarely growing above four feet. The Somnambul tribe were night dwellers, very lean and pale. Their lands were to the east of the Adidpodos. The three tribes lived harmoniously for the most part, any disputes were settled by a council formed of the leaders from the three tribes. They were relatively small tribes, ranging from three to five hundred in number. Vastly different from the thousands upon thousands that live in the two kingdoms. The outlying tribe lands had never been part of the kingdoms, part of a treaty signed at the forming of them.

Hundreds and hundreds of miles separated the outliers and the kingdoms, the only times there was any contact was when the kings invited them, out of courtesy, to weddings and the like. The chiefs always attended bearing gifts. A refusal would be deemed impolite. The tribal chiefs would in turn invite the kings, but the kings would send an ambassador with a gift, usually steel or iron so they could make stronger farm tools. The chiefs always appreciated the absence of the kings, the sheer number of people that travelled with them would overwhelm the villages and they couldn't possibly feed them all and keep them in wine for days of wedding celebrations.

The long narrow valleys heading north were a dangerous for lone traveller, the high rocky sides with many a place for a marauder to hide. Obduran had encountered many of these over the years, feral, ruthless men, and women. They had no language just guttural noises. They were nomadic and cannibalistic. If food were sparse the weakest of the group would be picked off. They hunted with crude, roughly hewn spears. Curiously though, Obduran had never seen a child, not even an older child. Just fully grown adults. The first time Obduran encountered a marauder, he had only been gone from his village a few months. He was sat under a tree, a campfire burning, skinning a rabbit he'd just caught. The sun was setting, the sky was a beautiful glowing orange. Obduran was mindlessly watching the drifting clouds, trying to make animal shapes from them. The attack came from behind and it was fast, Obduran fell forward dropping his dagger. The noise from the marauder was incredible, snarling like a rabid dog, arm around Obduran's throat, squeezing the breath from him. He stretched for his dagger, finally reaching it just before he lost consciousness, he flung his arm over his and plunged the dagger straight into the marauder's eye. Instantly he felt the grip around his neck loosen and the marauder slumped off him.

Obduran raised himself onto his knees, trying to catch his breath. He turned to look at the marauder and promptly vomited. Seeing him there with the dagger imbedded in his eye was horrifying. It was the first time Obduran had killed a man. He stood up, walked over, grabbed his dagger, and pulled. The noise it made coming out was disgusting, he lifted it high and brought it down hard on the marauders mouth. Another tooth for his necklace. He decided to keep moving in case there were more around. That was the day he learned to never let his guard down. It was a hard lesson.

Eyes darting left and right, Obduran forged ahead. It was eerily quiet, every tiny rock fall was amplified, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword ready to draw at any moment. He stopped in his tracks, something had disturbed the rocks behind him, he turned and drew his sword in on fluid motion. He laughed a little at himself as a rabbit looked up at him, twitching his nose. He took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. The rabbit hopped away and Obduran and turned to walk away when suddenly he was flat on his back, a bear upon him, jaws stretched open. Obduran had one hand on its snout the other on its jaw, drool falling from its mouth that was inching closer to Obduran's face. Obduran raised his knees and pushed with all his might, the bears back legs began to lift off the ground and with an almighty push, with its jaws still in his hands, the bear flipped through the air, Obduran followed through with the bear, landing on top of it. He pulled with all his immense strength and with a sickening crack he wrenched the bears jaws apart. The howl of pain from the bear was deafening, it was now the bear fighting for its life. Desperately trying to scrabble away, Obduran stood up, drew his sword and in one fell swoop took the bears head clean off.

Obduran sat on a rock, watching the blood pool, to catch his breath, he looked both ways up the valley. It wouldn't be long before other animals or worse turn up, with all the noise and the smell of blood in the air. He got up, cleaned his sword on the bears fur then took out his dagger and cut a lump of meat for himself. Stowing it in a small leather pouch on his hip. He set off back up the trail, he hadn't gone but a few yards when he was suddenly cast into shadow. Obduran looked up, circling above the bear and getting lower and lower, a dragon had smelt the blood. Obduran started running, hoping the bear would satisfy the dragon long enough to put some distance between them. Although Obduran had killed a few dragons before, they were all juveniles, though still really big they weren't old enough to breathe fire. This one on the other hand was clearly fully grown, he knew better than to try and take it on. He ran for at least half a mile, the valley evened out into a small forest, it was here the Obduran decided he was going to camp for night.