Foreword:
Of Blood And Honor is a short novel based on the storyline of Tremulous. This particular piece of lore, however, has a twist. Instead of the typical sci-fi "Sir Yes Sir!" military style of which Tremulous is based on, Of Blood And Honor has blended futuristic characteristics with elements of fantasy. It incorporates two timelines: one following Middle Age England during the reign of King John, and another following a planet Earth set in the Tremulous timeline. These two merge together before the climax and seperate again in the conclusion. The rest is for you to read and find out *wink*Of Blood And Honor
Chapter 1The stars shone brightly beside the full moon on a cool night. Beneath the sky, a lone mountain stood in silence. The peak was gone, and in its place was a large crater. The mountain was not a volcano despite the clues that would give it away as one. Its slopes were void of vegetation, and little hurricanes of dust formed when the night breeze flowed above it. At the base of the mountain was a dense forest. And the forest whispered to the lone figure in the center of the crater.
*
At another place, quite far ahead in the flow of time, a party was raging. The ones known as Men gathered in a bar and shared stories about their latest conquest. One such Man owned the name of Lovelace. He was the center of attention.
"The damned bastard begged for my forgiveness!" Lovelace bellowed, and put his mouth to his bottle. The wine had its talons firmly gripped in him. "I spat in his face and put my booted foot on his chest! Then, do you know what I said to him?" The roaring crowd cheered him on. "I said 'go to hell, you Marxist bastard!'" He began to laugh so hard that he lost his standing balance on the table and fell to the ground. Having no feeling of pain, he stood again and roared with laughter. The crowd joined him in his happiness. Lovelace took another mouthful of the wine in his hands and soon fell into the grip of alcohol. When the rage died down, the crowd dispersed into their own stories. The body of Lovelace was ignored. Lying on his back, his arms were spread out in a crucifix form with his face turned toward his right hand. His left leg was bent and tucked underneath his right. Above him, candles burnt brightly in front of a large portrait of a six-legged, navy-coloured arachnid.
There was one who approached Lovelace. A crooked old man leaning on a staff walked up to the still figure of Lovelace and retrieved a hidden silver knife. Muttering words of what could have been prayer, he touched the knife to the drunkard's forehead and scalped him. Lovelace only let out a sigh and turned his head the other way. The old man stiffened and turned his victim's head back, facing his right hand. No one had seen what he had done. Holding up the patch of skin to the portrait, the old man lifted his head, revealing a scarred face and one empty eye socket, and shouted,
"
Nuuf 'en ala sana, maecherio Doraagen!"
Curious eyes turned towards him, but before they could see, the entire building vanished and ceased to exist.
*
A mother by the name of Helen bathed her little son by a fragrant oasis. The pool was surrounded by sweet smelling flowers which helped to soothe the crying toddler. A scorching sun burned above them. The water was the only source of escape from the heat.
After, Helen brought her son to his father. She was a noble woman and lived in quite a splendid castle. She was more than lucky compared to other women her age, for His Majesty King John was not a kind man to his subjects. His brother Richard I was more favourable in the eyes of lowly peasant and farmers. Helen's husband, however, was a good friend of John's and therefore his family was treated with respect.
The little boy's father was not at home. Sighing, Helen sent him to his tutor, whom he liked very much.
At the schoolhouse, the teacher Gaelwynn lived alone. Considered a genius by her friends, she humbled herself and lived more like a house maiden. Gaelwynn's afternoon class of young boys settled and sat at their respective tables.
'God ye good den, class," she said. Her graceful smile lit up the room.
'God ye good den, Miss Gaelwynn," her class resounded.
"Today we are going to learn about the ones who look over us and protect us," the teacher continued. A young boy raised his hand, and asked, "may it be our parents?" Gaelwynn chuckled and replied, "no, young one. It is the ones who live in the heavens above us. Ye may call them gods. I shall now teach ye a sentence of the old language which thou shall remember. Repeat after me." The class sat up, eager to learn something new.
"Nuuf 'en ala sana, maecherio Doraagen." The boys repeated the phrase. "Good," said Gaelwynn. "Now can thou tell me what it means?"
"I bring your--" a boy piped up, them backed down as he realized he did not know the remaining words.
"Sacrifice?" another one said.
"Sacrifice for a magnificent dragon?" yet another one said.
Gaelwynn chuckled again, and said, "those are all very good guesses. However, not quite the meaning. I shall enlightened thy little minds.
Nuuf 'en ala sana, maecherio Doraagen. I bring your sacrifice, mighty Dragoon."
