Intro

First part of my Guide to Hoarding.

Dusk was drawing near and the first squad of the third platoon of Dragon’s Rise were headed to their regular pub. Amongst them was a young man, Riegel, who had arrived just a few days earlier.

 He wasn’t from the city, but rather a neighbouring village. He’d been drafted to join in the war for independence and forced to travel to the capital and today was his first day assigned to the first squad.

 Compared to his little village, Dragon’s Rise was huge, but still he was told it was a very small city for a capital. It would make sense, though. Their country was the smallest in the Charted Lands. It hadn’t even existed for very long, though he didn’t really know how old it was.

 He was a simple man, son of a carpenter. Because he was young and strong enough they had forced him to take up arms and ordered him to partake in this war.

 The war had been brewing for a while, years even, but no one had thought it would really break out. Now it had been chaos for a few months as the invaders plundered or even burned whole villages, trying to subdue the people.

 Of course he didn’t agree with any of this, but the politics just felt way above his head. He and his family just wanted to be left alone. But he supposed there was no way that would happen. Those who suffered the most in war seemed to be the common folk.

 This big city felt confusing to him and he didn’t know the people in his squad, even so he did his best to cling to them. They didn’t seem to mind and just seemed to immediately accept his presence, since he was a part of the team, but no one really spoke to him.

 The isolation was almost as oppressive and depressing as the military marching towards the walls of the city.

 He had heard that they should have reached the town today or, as it would seem, the next morning. There was a lot of talk going on, of how many would die. It would be the deciding battle, they said. If Dragon’s Rise fell, so too would their entire nation. Independence, they said, relied on the battle that would likely take place tomorrow.

 But independence and the nation was not what was on his mind. To be honest, he wasn’t exactly thinking anything, he was mostly feeling. Fear. It was all around him. It was mirrored in the faces of all the other soldiers he saw and also in the faces of the kids and the other civilians.

 Tomorrow could be the day they all died. Or if it came to a drawn out siege, they might all starve to death...

 He didn’t want to die. What he wanted most of all was to just run away, but there was no way out of the city anymore. The gates were closed and barred, heavily guarded at all times. No one could get in, no one would get out. Not until the battle had started at least, and even then they would probably stay within the walls... until those were breached.

 In the past few days his appetite had gone down. When he tried to eat, he felt as though it would all come right back up. The anxiety was taking a direct toll on his body.

 As his squad reached a pub called The New Dawn the man who was in charge stopped. Riegel didn’t know much about him, not even his name. They had been introduced, since he was the leader not only of the squad but the entire platoon, but Riegel had soon forgotten.

 It didn’t seem connected to him. None of this really did.

 Reality felt strangely unreal, except for the fear. The fear and the anxiety, those were the two most real things in this city.

 The building that was apparently The New Dawn pub seemed old, but well taken care of. It was near the center of the city and seemed almost out of place there. Apart from the pub there were important places such as the large guild halls, the courthouse was just a few buildings away and even the House of Nobles, where the ruling power met to decide the fates of all their citizens.

 But this pub seemed very quiet and not at all a place that the upper crust of the population frequented. It seemed more like a soldier pub, just as it would soon enough be if they did actually enter.

 The platoon leader reached out for the door. Riegel looked at him. He looked older than the rest of the men who had followed him. He had brown hair that reached to his shoulders. It looked like it had been a few days since he had washed it and he seemed to have given up on keeping himself neat and clean. But the lack of beard would mean that he either cared enough to shave, or that he had some elven blood.

 Riegel had expected someone in command to at least be tidy and neat, but that was not the case with this man. Then again, it seemed no one had much of any hope of actually being able to win this war. Their leader had the same resigned look in his eyes as many others did. Eyes that seemed to wonder mostly how he would meet his end, not how to survive.

 Eyes that had given up on hope.

 This city, especially its army, was on the verge of a collapse simply due to the low morale of the troops, but it seemed no amount of effort could manage to bring it back up.

 The man opened the door and the group of twelve entered in silence. During the time it had taken them to walk there, no one had said a word. No one had even talked about going to drink, other than their commander saying, to no one in particular, that he was going to grab something to quench his thirst. Everyone else had simply followed because it was easier than thinking for yourself at this point and he had made no attempts to stop them.

 The room they entered was dimly lit by a single source of light, namely a big fireplace. It was large enough for two or three fires to be build separate from one another, if there was such a desire, but since it was early autumn and the air was still warm, in spite of the darkness, the owner seemed to have made do with only one small fire for light. On top of that, the fire was burning low, as though no one had been there to feed it fuel for a long time.

 Riegel looked to the counter, which was close to the entrance, but found no one there. This surprised him, but the commander didn’t seem to care. Instead he just went behind the counter, retrieved a pitcher and filled it, with wine, from the looks and smell of it.

 As soon as he had filled it, he nodded towards a table close to the fireplace and the rest of the men sat down, still without a word. They didn’t seem surprised by the lack of people in the establishment.

 Riegel looked around, worried that someone would walk in and get upset that they had just taken whatever they wanted without payment, but after a few seconds he also sat down by the table.

 The commander put the pitcher down in the middle of the table, then went back and forth, retrieving jugs for them all and even another pitcher, this one with sweet smelling mead.

 Everyone just seemed to fill their jug with whatever their preferred beverage was and then sank into their chair, enjoying the drink in shared solitude. It was strange, it seemed no one really desired to be alone, but no one wanted to talk either.

 Knowing there were other people around was enough that their dark thoughts didn’t overwhelm them, but the silence was good since it didn’t set anyone off through a clumsy comment. It was a tense atmosphere, but even Riegel preferred this to just going back to their lodgings and wait for the next morning.

 The morning that could well be their last.

 There was a creaking of wood as someone moved upstairs, which startled not only Riegel, but everyone else as well, including their commander.

 Twelve sets of eyes immediately looked towards the stairs leading to the upper floor.

 First there was the movement of dark cloth as someone descended. Whomever it was, they were wearing a dark robe and carrying a string instrument which was unfamiliar to Riegel, since he wasn’t exactly the musical type. More than that he was unable to make out a face in the dim light and the person wore its hood up, making it impossible to see the face.

 Riegel felt uneasy and looked around at the others. All of them seemed to show the same emotions, except for their commander who seemed almost relieved.

 “Who are you?” one of the other men demanded.

 “A storyteller and a bard,” the voice was decidedly male.

 Everyone seemed to turn to their commander, who in turn had already turned to look at his jug. “His songs are some of the best,” the commander said with a slightly nostalgic and sad smile.

 Those words seemed to be enough to calm everyone down. If anything there was a bit of an air of expectation. Now they wanted to hear these songs, perhaps it would allow them to forget for a moment that this could be their last days in life.

 The robed man did exactly what their commander had done and went behind the counter and fetched himself something to drink, then seated himself.

 Riegel felt as though the man was the type who would prefer to sit in a corner, with his back against the wall. There was just that type of feeling to him. But to Riegel’s surprise he merely seated himself at the back of the room, facing straight out into the middle, as though facing a larger audience.

 He didn’t remove his hood and Riegel still couldn’t make out his face, but for a second before the man raised the jug to drink, he thought he saw a smile. It seemed eerie to smile, considering the situation of the town. Wrong, somehow. It kind of made Riegel a bit angry, though he couldn’t exactly say why.

 “I hear you’re a commander now. Kind of funny,” the man said and actually laughed a little bit and then sighed before continuing. “I wouldn’t have thought you were much of a leader. But you always were in the shadow, so what would I know,” he shrugged and took another drink from his jug.

 Riegel was confused by this conversation. Apparently this was someone who their commander knew. From the looks on the others’ faces they were just as confused as he was.

 The commander himself looked annoyed. “I wouldn’t have thought you much of a bard either, but what do you know. Life takes us where it pleases,” his tone was grim and he gave the robed man a hard look.

 The man responded by laughing heartily and raising his hands in a slightly disarming manner.

 “Whoops, didn’t mean to upset you. As an apology, how about you get to choose the first song. I know you don’t tend to like it when I choose...” the last bit was said in a tone Riegel could best describe as pouty.

 “You know my favorite one already. With the lyrics…” he said and took one final drink from the jug before more or less lying down with his arms on the table and his chin resting on his arms.

 For the first time in the entire day, Riegel saw their commander smile. It was a sad smile though, he thought.

 The robed man sighed, but didn’t hesitate as he pulled the chair back a bit to get more room for his instrument. His foot moved a bit as he decided on the pace of the song and then he started to play.

 Even Riegel recognised the melody, but he’d never heard it sung before. Usually it was just an instrumental melody and he didn’t even know that there were any words to go along with it.