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People of the Valley

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  • #61
    Life has come along way in the last century. Our people have finally flung the oppression of our Indian aggressors off. No longer do we have to allow such horrible foes wandering our valley or threatening the workers in our fertile fields.

    The year is 478ad. The fabled chroniclers are starting to renew their humble craft. Throughout the ruins of our once mighty people a picture is being put together of our history, a history that we have so little knowledge of. It is but a rumor that we were a people of peace, not a tribe of hardened warriors, skilled in the art of the sword and the shield. For the first time in centuries, there is talk of building houses that have windows and doorways, not mini fortresses for multiple families.

    Yet before I recap on our history, let me paint a picture of our twin towns. The two that we have settled in the last 65 years. The towns are so close that it is but a good walk from the edge of one to the edge of the other. Very good for defensive purposes, and our people know about defensive purposes.

    The swarve and boisterous Indian soldiers have taken great delight in loudly letting our people know of the many settlements that they have ruined in the last centuries. How no matter what we had tried, we were beaten and slaughtered. The ruins of our towns litter the valley floor; even our current town of BladeStake has been founded on the ruins of a settlement that was trashed several centuries ago.

    Our chroniclers believe that we were caught in some sort of trap while involved in a war in ancient times. That the bulk of our forces were on the field a vast distance from our much loved valley. Legend has it that once a fine people lived to our north, and they joined with our once mighty warriors to fight a great oppressor to the far west. While these fabled warriors conducted war a large force of Indians and Chinese fell upon our cities and towns. Any peace, freedoms and cultures were torn from the hands of our people.

    No soul has been found with either record or truth of our time in the badlands. But whether it be truth or really bad fiction, it seems that our land was ravaged, and as we settled into new settlements we fought long and demoralizing wars with these two peoples..

    Amongst our folk there are some very funny jokes about the fall of the Chinese, so it is believed from these tales that the Indians and the Chinese fell out several times over the millennia, so much so that there is no real record of any Chinese in this area for a long long time. Although there are some very good laundries down town, and most of our people can make mean short soups….

    and on a personal note, thank you all for your patience with my lack of writing over the past months.
    I have appreciatted the stories that you all have done, very inspiring.
    Merry Christmas one and all.
    Gurka 17, People of the Valley
    I am of the Horde.


    • #62
      Rayette, that’s my name, nothing more, nothing less. I belong to the 7th long spears, of the second t town I am one of the remaining. This story is about how my life changed.

      My son and his mates have really been enjoying the freedoms of having the valley free of foreign troops. They are constantly exploring the multitude of ruins that litter the valley floor. Some of the treasures that they have brought home are amazing. Yet mainly there treasures fall into the category of another mans trash.

      Recently these adventurous souls have been up into the mountains, wandering the old escape routes, finding great streams, vales of beautiful grass, cattle in amazing places, all sorts of wonders. Yet their best times are to be found in the tunnels and mine shafts that are all over. The latest tunnel system has been quite a maze, meandering here and there, with cross tunnels, cave-ins, old rusted doors, shafts that seem to have no bottoms, and yet more tunnels. By far the most exciting find was the trapdoor in the ceiling of one of the tunnels. I am quite sure that if it was anybody else other than curious kids, the door would never have been found, not in my lifetime at least.

      The trapdoor was very cleverly concealed as rafters. On gaining access, they were led into another set of tunnels, and paths, which eventually brought them out onto a balcony overlooking our glorious valley. Through using a mixture of natural rock formations and some clever craftsmanship, the balcony just melted into the surrounds so naturally. When the lads followed the path along the balcony they came to a small chamber, which in turn led into a great natural chamber. From this chamber there are numerous rooms and halls leading off in different directions. Within the halls, a vast store of goods lay around, swords, furniture, rotten clothing, massive jars, barrels, and sorts of machinery.

      Ok, so I love these lads, I love their no holds spirit, I love that they are determined that they will “remain”. Yet I was so sceptical when they burst into our MainJunctionHome. They rushed to take me off for a chat; oh they were laden down with all sorts of items that were all wrapped in rags and blankets. All I could think was “The conspiracy of the young,” hahahahaha. Being so adult, and trying not to be condescending, I humoured them and listened to their many stories of the great journey of discovery. But they knew they had me when at last they unwrapped the WHITE AXE.

      I could feel my eyes bugging out of my head. The shine, the gleam, the sheer sparkle of this soft looking piece of wood and metal. It really looks delicate, yet when they handed it to me its weight became apparent. This was not some trophy, some ornament for the shelfs. On close inspection I found that the handle was well worn, smooth in many areas, areas that my hands naturally feel to. And the blade, this gleaming white blade, it actually has notches in its blade; notches that I felt sure could only have come from battle with other weapons. Then I lost all hearing as the lads continue talking of their journey and many discoveries. As they opened up their various bundles, I was lost to them, my concentration was solely on the blade and the fine engraving that was across the face of the blade… On one side were etched a series of names, these only come down 1/3 of the blade, obviously leaving room for plenty more. The other side holdsp a picture of mountains, in a far stretching C formation, with a river flowing through what looks to be lush landscape, and there is that a small village along the river.

      Finally I heard, “Dad, Dad; this is the Remaining to Dad”

      Snapping my head up I looked around to find a group of very quiet lads looking at me with very very serious faces.

      “Dad, have we done something wrong?”

      “My paddy boy, my paddy boy, my paddy boy…. We need to take this before Frigler, and I mean we should do this now” Looking around, I beamed a long and happy smile, “Lads, I believe that your names will be sung for generations to come. Lets be off to see if Frigler will grant us an audience?”

      Frigler, Ol’ Frig, our meanest Captain of war, the leader of the “Remaining.” We were able to get an appointment almost straight away, which is a good thing in such a small community. Ol’ Frig was quite dismissive of the find, yes he was able to understand the significance of this to our peoples overall well being and growth, but he had far more pressing issues that required his attention in the foreseeable future.

      It was determined that a group of our chroniclers would accompany the lads and I back up into the tunnels for a more thorough search and documentation of the find. Until further studies had been concluded, notice of the find was to be kept under Frigs rule, basically meaning it was not open for discussion in public.

      Then being the hardened warlord that he is, he called for food, wine and song. There was no way that these young lads’s would be forgotten even if there was to be no public celebration at this time. This is the way our people are now; we know how to take celebration at a moments notice or to jump for sword and shield, and life’s adventures sure have led us through some vicious years.
      Last edited by Paddy; December 11, 2003, 10:59.
      Gurka 17, People of the Valley
      I am of the Horde.


      • #63
        The fourth Berserker group have been scouting the southern lands for Indian soldiers for some months. They are running point for our strike force of a further 3 Berserkers and 2 spear groups.

        The disappearance of the Indian forces from our land, while being a great blessing to our people, has caused quite a bit of concern as well. For millennia we have battled these arrogant slave traders for every inch of ground, now they can not be found…. A bloody dilemma if ever there was one.

        There would not be a warman or warmaiden amongst the groups that does not know the legends of our long lost past. Of how our troops were not at home when our foe attacked. So it has been with great trepidation that this fighting force has travelled far from our settlements, far from our beloved valley.

        We have been able to piece together that Indians had been slowly draining resources and troops from their fortifications and armed camps in and around the valley. It is really not know for how long that they were running this deception, for every now and then they were still sending forces into attack our settlements, burn our fields and continue to make our lives ruin. Then almost over night they were gone, the forts were mostly demolished, the camps were like a figment of our imagination, no longer could we here the howls of the Indian Dogboys as they scrapped themselves ceremoniously down their swords late into the nights. Like the coming of a thief in the night, they were gone.

        Thus Ol’ Frig sent forth this patrol, a damned well armed patrol if I must say so, and a very well provisioned patrol. It is with joy that we have been crossing back and forth across the lands to the south, finding good land, minerals again, and ruins of long forgotten towns, of our own people, of the despised Indian people and of the Chinaman.

        It was almost by accident that the fourth came across a party of Indian Horse, and being Berserkers, they ran at them hard, with the true froth rolling from there lips, yelling like banshees, and cursing every Dogboy name they had ever heard, even making some great ones up in the heat of the battle.

        The battle fuelled the blood of the berserkers; they had a good head of steam up for a few weeks there after. It must be admitted that there were quite a few grumblings in the other battle groups that were not present for the battle, but were part of the patrol.

        Throughout the clean up of the battle, plans and maps were removed from the dead Dogboys. Thus it was discovered that a large grouping of slaves were being gathered to the south west, they were then to travel together under combined arms of units such as these very Dogboys to some hideous place in the land of Dogboys. Ha, getting our tongues around some of their city names, when reading the map was quite a funny experience for many a warman and warmaiden.

        So here the Patrol is, away from our people, yet knowing where a large group of slaves is being gathered, who are very possibly our people anyway.

        • Do they march home, for instructions and possibly miss the gathering.
        • Do they send part of the patrol back for the further protection of the people, as soon they will have gone the limit that Ol’ Frig had set, then send the remaining battle groups to the gathering and hope to slaughter the Dogboys and free the slaves?
        • Do they march on the gathering, slaughter the Dogboys and free the slaves.

        Knowing full well their own history? Balancing this against the lust for battle? That they had already defeated / pulverised one party of Dogboys, thus fixing the odds higher in their favour? That they have instructions and a responsibility to the people of the valley?

        Yeah they decided to go get the people back.

        The march was hard and long. They deliberately travelled as fast and hard as they could, there was to be no slowing.

        Unfortunately the Indian Dogboys got word of the patrol and sent out a screen to deflect and hit the patrol from many angles. The Dogboys must have had a change in their command, or the commander may not understand the tactics and tenacity of the people of the valley. By marching together in a fixed battle ready patrol, the Berserkers and spears were quite a devastating set of units to be throwing horse units and soldier units at one or two at a time. A series of 14 battles ensued through out this chase, and chase it was. The berserkers had a goal and a one track mind, to rescue the slaves.

        I would love to tell how all made, unfortunately many fell in these ferocious battles, many wives and husbands would not be seeing their mates again. But all was not in vain... Far from it actually. The long and the short of it is that like butter on a hot blade, the dogboys retreated when hurt to much, they gave way to the patrol. And even when the patrol thought this could only be leading to some sort of really bad ambush, nothing came of it. The patrol did secure the release of 7 groups of slaves. Thousands of them! Well ordered, well maintained, even well provisioned and ready to march. Amongst these people were many strange folk from far away lands who had no idea where they were, net alone where they really were from. They were some who were quite happy to strip the Dogboys of any weapons and head off into the lands, heading for their homes and loved ones. They all received the blessing of the patrol. Then for those that wanted, the patrol brought them back to the valley.

        It is still quite amazing to wander amongst these people, to look at some and see mirrors of my own children, to see my long dead grandfather in the way some sit, some walk even to hear some old soul sharing a recipe with another, a recipe that I would cook two or three times a month, and to think some of these people had not been amongst the “Remaining” for generations…

        What else awaited us out there in the darkness of the night? What other treasures of our people would be unearthed on a beautiful sunny day? Could there be a small child looking up into the rain, beseeching his God for his people to come and save him? These things await us as the planet rotates; these are the destinies of tomorrow as we rebuild the People of the Valley.
        Gurka 17, People of the Valley
        I am of the Horde.


        • #64

          Just as good as the first batch.

          Looks to me you've had a hard time early on.


          • #65
            Thanks for the feedback Richelieu... I really appreciatte it.

            I have actually had an amazing few months, and this story has had many many ups and downs. And if you saw how the game that is based on has been going... all a bit scarey.

            Basically very tired drunken males can leave massive trails of destruction... yep it was me, and I had some great game sessions while drinking lots of Cointreau

            Thus my adding to the story has been very hard, for I do not have great memories of my druken staggerings across the lands...

            I will attempt to load some screens from the valley in the coming weeks.

            Hope you have a great weekend.
            Gurka 17, People of the Valley
            I am of the Horde.


            • #66
              Sims Metal here, 7th axe of the 3rd Berserker group, 1st patrol, on the hunt for Dogboys. We will take any DogBoys, anywhere, anytime. It has been a desire for most of my life to hunt these horrible soldiers of the enemy, and here we are, many months of hard travel from the valley of our fathers.

              Life sure has been very interesting in the last 20 years, after millennia of oppression, our people have thrown off the shackles of the Indian forces and are now finally fighting on the offensive. Well we would be if we could find them.

              Some of our people are so happy that we have beaten the Indians into submission, but then there are those of us that are quite sure that we did no such thing. We are quite positive that the DogBoys retreated from our lands for reasons that we have no real knowledge of, further to this, we are quite sure that they are upto more conniving, and preparing to cause our beautiful people further pain and humiliation.

              Through legend and song, we know that we have fought for our very existence against these people for way to long. Please understand we are not a weak people, we have produced some wild warriors throughout the days. I am quite proud to be 7th Axe of the 3rd Berserker Group for in this band of men there are many of renown. Yet even with our thirst for battle the Indians and their DogBoy units outmatched us for a long time.

              These men, these DogBoys, who would castrate themselves in the dark of a moonless night, in the fields of our towns and settlements. It is my understanding that the act of self castration took the warrior from manhood to the state of an eternal warrior, that is one who would be forever blessed in the heavens for their efforts in battle. Whatever this may be, I have seen the effects that the screams and howls of the castrated have produced on our own people, from the strongest warrior to the young girls just in braids. These are not sounds that I would recommend anyone needing to hear. It is probably great psychology to conduct these castrations in the surrounding fields of your foes, as it really can effect the people’s moral. I am glad that our society shuns this practise though, I like having what is left of my body with me, not on a leather chain around me neck.

              And so these days we are out in the field marching. Our patrol is made up of four battle groups - three of Berserker Axes and one of Spears. As much as we would miss our families and friends, there is way too much pride in taking the battle to the Indians. Now, if only we could find the accursed devils.

              We marched, and marched and marched. Through snowstorms in the high peaks, across scorching plains, into a fierce and sandy desert that we had never heard of. Until we came across a great expanse of water. Here we camped for several weeks, allowing the for battle groups of our patrol to replenish supplies from the surrounding countryside, get plenty of rest, and to mend damaged and used items in our kits.

              We then started along the vast beaches that ran along the water, eventually coming across a colony of Horse handlers. These stouthearted souls spoke such a strange language; we were not able to find anyone within the whole patrol who could get past basic communications with them. Apart from filling our waterskins, we moved on quite soon, leaving them bewildered and quite uncertain of themselves. Personally I am not sure I would be very happy to have our patrol wander over the hill and sit just outside their small village, then to find that we have no communication between the two peoples. All very frustrating. We had been gone from these people several hours when 5 horseman wearing the tunics of the colony over took us, they were heading off past us at quite a pace. Here the chief slowed us down considerably, and then the spears were deployed along the front and side of the column. This went on for the next 5 days, but we saw no more of these strange tongued people.

              Our captain Taylor is a very courageous man, having led many a foray against the enemy while we were on the defensive. It is a pleasure to once again march with him in the 3rd Berserker group.

              Then we came across our first sighting of an Indian township. I must say that with all of our posturing and big talk, there were very few of us willing to march against this pitiful settlement of poorly fed souls. There seemed to be only a few thousands in total, and not a spear or sword in sight. The surrounding fields although possibly once well tendered were a clear reflection of the settlement.

              Then a small delegation of men in rags came out and wandered towards us. A small man spoke up and challenged our patrol.

              “If you would be willing to lend us some weapons, then we fabled warriors of the Indian Nation stand before you, ready to kill you all. Have you prepared yourselves to die?”

              Then they bowed and awaited our reply.

              Here our chief showed an amazing level of compassion, and raised a new level of awareness in our patrol. In a booming voice that many could hear, our chief opened up in the Indian language (which it must be noted after so many centuries of battle, many of our people are quite fluent in the Indian dialect).

              “I Mazrak, leader of the 1st Patrol, Captain of the 9th Berserkers choose to give you the battle of peace. You men can go from this time with the knowledge that you are proud and fierce men, that on this day you have done battle with my mighty patrol, and on this day bare handed you stopped this patrol from decimating your fine and beautiful city.”

              You could see the awe, the shock of these words rippling across the faces of these Indian men. The word was passed through our ranks like wild fire, and the only reaction was a wall of silence. I cannot speak for my fellow berserkers, but the heat of battle had not been raised in me as yet that day, we had not expected to come across the settlement so we listened closely to the words of our battle chief.

              Thus ended a war that had raged across our lands, that had cut short the lives of countless people. Thus ended the war of the Dogboys.

              Their would be celebrations in the Valley when we returned.

              Gurka 17, People of the Valley
              I am of the Horde.


              • #67
                The cold wind howled around our ears as we marched through the pass. This was to be my last patrol with my beloved 3rd Beresckers. My age has led to my being retired off, told to sit and watch over the younger generations, to relax and enjoy my latter years. HAA I say, it has been many a generation since our people / our warriors grew too old and too fat to retire. So why should we start now, just because we are at peace, I find this to be insulting.

                They tell me that I should have taken this ‘retirement’ happily five years ago. PPER I say to that, although if the truth was to be known a warm fire and a full jug of beer would be better than a cloak covered in snow as we tramp through the mountains, well maybe.

                Recently a new place opened up, they call it ‘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’ is said to be built in the very spot where a similar establishment sat over 1500 years ago. The skill and desire of the people to restore our shattered heritage has been quite amazing. Even more amazing are the caches of treasure and information that have been found in ruins throughout are former towns, even in some abandon mines and such.

                I recently visited the club and spent several relaxing evening with cold brews in hand, and steaks on the fires. Ahh our people really do 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 was setting and the back colouring sets the snow to a fantastic purple gold hew.

                I am thinking that I just might join the club and move in to the area. HHAA retirement may not be so bad, I could get to enjoy the peace of the People of the Valley.

                Thus ends this story….
                Gurka 17, People of the Valley
                I am of the Horde.


                • #68
                  Two thumbs up, Paddy the Scot.

                  It's also great to see you writing a new story too.

                  I shall nominate this one for the Stories Contest.

                  And I can tell you right now, I'll be voting for this one.

                  If I get to vote.
                  "The Pershing Gulf War began when Satan Husane invaided Kiwi and Sandy Arabia. This was an act of premedication."
                  Read the Story ofLa Grande Nation , Sieg oder Tod and others, in the Stories Forum


                  • #69
                    Hi Kaos,

                    Thanks for the encouragement. I have been having a lot of fun writing again, and it is great to get some feedback.

                    Gurka 17, People of the Valley
                    I am of the Horde.


                    • #70
                      Superb ending well thought out and most interesting

                      Ive been really busy with work lately so I only just got around to catching up on this. It has taken you a while to complete but definitely worth the wait.

                      If we get a better turn out of voters in the next contest I would expect to see this ranking highly

                      Im off now to read your latest offering
                      A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.


                      • #71
                        Thank you for this feedback. This is my first ever story and I am a tad proud of it.
                        Gurka 17, People of the Valley
                        I am of the Horde.


                        • #72

                          strong story, interesting, and good to read.

                          is it true that you are doing a sequel, I had hoped there would be more in
                          the middle, seemed to be a void.

                          As mentioned above, I enjoyed the way the ending came together


                          • #73
                            I am glad that you liked it Remick.

                            Not sure about a sequel, but when I reread this story the ideas come pouring in...

                            The middle, well I was confronting some issues then, and as this is my initial story, I was getting quite concerned about how to express myself. For a while there I was typing up my ideas, then letting them sit for a week, then rereading them... thus a lot got scrapped.

                            Then through the feedback that I had got, I was encouraged to just tackle the story the way I did when I started it, and enjoyed it. I hope that that explains the void...

                            Since then I have tried to leave feedback for others when I can, for it was the feedback that really got me up and going again.

                            Glad you liked the ending. If I had the chance, that is the sort of place I would like to retire to.
                            Gurka 17, People of the Valley
                            I am of the Horde.


                            • #74
                              Hey, Paddy,

                              I just realized that even though this piece was nominated, I never got to read the last few bits... (Thanks for bumping it, Remick )

                              Well, I must say: this is a great story. The plot is well thought out and sticks together well, and there is just something about the style that keeps you thinking: just one more paragraph and I'll go, when you are almost late somewhere... Of course, the "one more paragraph" syndrome keeps going strong untill you either finish reading everything, or are so late that you will be killed if you don't leave now.

                              So, overall, I'd say, great effort there, Paddy, and I also must commend you on actually finishing the story. I saw you struggling a little bit in the middle there, and a lot of people just abandon their story at such point. But you persevered, and have once again proven that with time and effort one can produce a writing of great quality. Good job.

                              Now, I'm off to read the other story of yours.
                              XBox Live: VovanSim
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                              Halo 3 Service Record (I fail at FPS...)
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                              • #75
                                Thank you Vovan.

                                I appreciate your words of encouragement.

                                It was through the stories by people such as yourself, that saw me come to this site years ago, and through these same stories that I have maintained the fire within, that eventually became this first story.

                                Then you were one of the people who left me feedback. Hahaha you even confused me with "You know, faux pases, fax pauses," which was a good thing in that it got me to concentrate more on what was going into the story.

                                So in many ways you, and a few others here, are responsible for my getting the job done.

                                The plot was an interesting beast to keep together, and I am glad that it has been found enjoyable to read.
                                Gurka 17, People of the Valley
                                I am of the Horde.