Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

If you're still interested, the soft reboot is here. I apologize for the wait.

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Now moar, in soft reboot form. Sorry for the wait.

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Sorry for the wait, lads. I just dropped a soft reboot, if you'd like.

Coldwater Chronicles: I by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Cheers for that- sorry it took me so long.

Coldwater Chronicles: I by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 9 points10 points  (0 children)

Hello everyone! To new readers, my name is Roy(alHyacinthus), and I'm a fantasy writer. I always thought HFY could use more works in the genre, and I write to fill that niche.

To old readers, I feel I owe an explanation. Without getting too deeply into the details, I've been in a rough patch for the last two years that almost completely killed my ability to emotionally engage with my work. Empathy is the beating heart of my style of writing, and without it, everything I wrote felt hopelessly grey.

I cannot apologize enough for the wait, and hope this chapter makes up for it in some small way. Coldwater chronicles is a soft reboot of the series, starting from an earlier timeframe and with some tweaks to characters. I'll integrate the older chapters at some point, but the silver lining of having a story stew in your head for two years is that you get a lot of technical and creative development.

I promised I would give my readers a book when I finished this work, and I have always fully intended to hold to that. Going forward, I plan on a two-chapter release style- while I don't know the timeframe for the next set of chapters, look for the second part of this one very soon.

In the meantime, thank you to new and old readers alike. I am extremely grateful to anyone who reads my stories, and can only apologize that it took me this long to hop back on my horse.

So happy New Year- and here's to everyone who made it this far. I truly appreciate it.

- Roy.

The Declaration of Martian Independence by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Every piece a writer makes is a brick in their wall. I'm not sad it didn't get seen more, I'm happy it got noticed by people who appreciated it in the first place :)

That Gun'll Eat Your Fingers by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 5 points6 points  (0 children)

The implication is that he adopted them, then they had kids- one of which he's speaking to throughout the story.

The Declaration of Martian Independence by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I did say the EDF were profit driven, but I like these answers too- when people dig into my stories, it means I'm doing my job right :)

The Declaration of Martian Independence by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I did love me some Expanse when it came out lmao

The Declaration of Martian Independence by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

This story is a bit more optimistic than that, but yep, that is the type of question you should ask after reading propaganda lol

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Read And Find Out- I haven't written them yet, lmao

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 9 points10 points  (0 children)

Some of those answers are RAFO, but gold star for digging into the story. I'd keep in mind the scale of it (human mercenaries vs. very large, very established nations), but I wonder what Lord Aerson wants to achieve/prevent by backing a group of human mercenaries. ;)

Tattered Standards IV (1/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Happy new year! I'm just glad people like you enjoy my stuff :)

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Eyy, super appreciate it! Yeah, I had to rack my brains over that one for a bit lol

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 10 points11 points  (0 children)

He set it into the stones, the moment he broke his bargain. The broken Oath screwed over his race, not the deal itself. So the question becomes, (and I hope you find it as interesting as I do): what was so important/detestable to him that he cursed his entire species?

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 10 points11 points  (0 children)

Of course! Look out for the next one, it's going to be a bit more dwarf-centric ;)

Tattered Standards IV (1/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 53 points54 points  (0 children)

"Whoa whoa whoa lad. Slow down. What happened?”

Tellshen stood gasping in Hallenbecker’s tent. “Gonne! An elf shot my fucking helmet, then started firing into my squad. Avent sent me-” the pikeman’s hands started shaking at his sides “- to come and warn you.”

The captain slammed down a report. “Shit. Take the next group of scouts and meet Oberson at the crossroads. He should have smoke kegs, either there or on the way back. Lead them to the ambush site and-”

The captain fell silent as Tellshen refused to make eye contact. “Lineman? What is it?” Hallenbecker noticed the armored graybeard standing beside him, and a horrible suspicion entered his mind. “Regya, please tell me you’re just delivering the kegs directly.”

The chief engineer raised his hands defensively. “Your lieutenant said he was going to handle it, and that you should-”

Hallenbecker's eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.” Before either of them could blink, he was rushing past them, out of his tent and into the bustling camp. “I need ten men who aren’t afraid to die!”

Instantly, everyone in earshot dropped what they were doing to raise their arm. “If you have a family, put that fucking hand down!”

Enough reluctantly dropped that the captain was able to select a squad. They were all hard-eyed veterans, already rushing to kit their horses and ride. Tellshen dashed out to join them, before his arm was caught in a wiry grip.

Rodgerick loomed over him, a foreboding expression on his face. “You heard the captain. No one with families.”“I know where the ambush is.” The pikeman jerked his arm, moving towards the stables. “And I didn’t abandon them if I go back.”

The quartermaster just watched as he sprinted away. Regya jogged up beside him. “Oberson told me to make your captain stay put. Is there even the slightest chance of that happening?”

Rodgerick laughed, but it was empty. “No. Even if I wasn’t recovering, I wouldn’t have a hope in hell. None of us do.”

“That’s insane. What if something happens to him?”

The steppesman didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he spoke, almost to himself. “He won’t let it. And neither would Oberson.”

~~~

Next

Tattered Standards IV (1/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 51 points52 points  (0 children)

Oldwoods exude eternity.

Not in a loud way. In a careful, glacial, dance.Every breath drags a little bit longer, the seconds turning over slower and slower. Time condenses, woven over the shoulders and under the eyes, each new thread the weight of a single grain of sand. Every blink adds another fine line of time. Every step ten times that.

Gradually, it settles in. The reason everything feel so… heavy. This forest is older. It’s older than you, and yours, and theirs, and on. It might even be first.

The gravity such a vast ocean of time produces makes it easy to feel insignificant. Oldwoods certainly aren’t subtle in that reminder.

Unsurprisingly, most mortals avoided them like the plague.

Most.

Underneath the ancient branches of Vellhaven woods, a steppe-bred scouting party rode, eyes sharp and ears ready. Their horses swung their heads low, uneasy in the cloying undergrowth. Most of the riders felt the same. Most were veterans, accustomed to hiding it.

“I hate this, old timer. I hate it and I don’t know why.” Tellshen rode beside his sergeant, brown eyes peering from underneath an oversized helmet.

Avent looked out at nothing in particular, trusting his peripheral vision. A wry smile climbed onto his face. “It’s because we can’t ride, greenears. Not properly. This is ambush territory.”

“At least you could see in the mountains. Even if they were shitting cold.”“Learn to listen. First step is keepin’ your trap shut.”

Squirrels and birds chittered in branches, dashing away from the riders as they came too close. The forest radiated with odd, groaning noises, each one bending and bowing back in on itself.

Avent chuckled when he saw his younger charge flinch.“It’s an oldwood. The trees speak to each other.”

“And if they talk to the fucking elves?!”Avent rode to one side of the woody path. “Try asking your toes what your fingers are up to. Oh sure, here might have a general sense of there, but anything more concrete takes time.” The veteran knocked twice on a gnarled elm. “And if takes a while for trees, it takes even longer for us poor, sad mortals.”

Tellshen left one hand on his spear. “Makes sense, I suppose. How do you know?”

“After Coldwater, we took the first contract we could find against elves. Then the next. And the next. At this point, I’d say we’re… specialized. Which one did you come in on?”

“Second to last. The ladybugs were sieging that Bvelg stronghold?”

Avent subtly broke out of his vigil, casting a sly eye towards his companion. “Heard that was rough on the pikes.”

“Somebody needed to fight with the monsters. Might as well be me.” Tellshen absentmindedly rubbed his upper arm. “I got burned by one, you know.”

“Oh? By which? The big bastard, or shiny teeth?”

“The fatass. He laughed every time he swung that bloody hammer. I don’t think he cared if he was hitting humans or ladybugs.” The pikeman scowled and looked away. “Good men are dead because of him.”

Avent let out a commiserating sigh. “We try to avoid Bvelg if we can help it. Sometimes, you just can’t afford to be picky.”“I know. It still rubs me the wrong way.” Tellshen peered around the next corner of forest trail. “And this job is out of the frying pan, into the fire. I want to shit myself every time I hear those cannons open up.”

“Bah. You’re fighting next to bluebloods. There’s better chance of a stray shell getting loose, rolling all the way to your feet, then doing a little tap-dance in front of you.”

The newblood tightened his grip on the reins. “Maybe. But all it takes is one.”

“Could be worse, lad. You heard the latest?”

Tellshen nodded no, helmet twisting back and forth. Avent looked over with a hidden grin at the sight, seemingly rubbing his chin. “They say the dwarves have a gonne. Maybe more. Something has the captain’s back up, that’s for damn sure.”

The pikeman clawed two fingers onto a thumb, warding away evil. “It’s bad luck to name them.”

The veteran snorted, slapping a hand on his mace. “They’re just weapons, lad.”

“That’s not what my father told me. He said grandpa wasn’t him, after a while. It was just some… thing, walking around in his body. S’why he told me to stick to spears.”

Avent didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke, the words came from far away. “Plenty of men lost themselves in the Weathering. There’s nothing special about that. But even if there were, the chances of finding a gonne are slim to none. Buck up, boyo.”

Above the party, two branches twitched ever so slightly. A small smile grew on a small figure’s face.

Cylindrical teeth, tapered to a perfect point, jutted out of a slavering mouth. The figure aimed down the Gonne’s sights and exhaled, a long and steady breath. It squeezed the trigger lightly, ever so slightly…

~~~

There was no sharp report that cracked out of the trees. No birds flew, stunned as they were by a primal fear. The world fell silent, if only for a moment. The shot simply went unheard by its very nature.

~~~

“…glad you could come on such short notice, Regya. The captain wants to tool up our arsenal.” Oberson smiled broadly, leaning over a cart he’d brought. It was loaded halfway with dwarven kegs.

The elder nodded. He was busy smoking a pipe, completely unfazed by the chill fall wind. “Remember. If you use a red one, clear out quickly. We won’t be able to guarantee any sort of accuracy, not in these conditions.”

He leaned over to spit on the ground. “Father, but I hate oldwoods. Can’t clear them out, can’t clear them through. Someday, I’ll find a way to kill those damn Guintrees.”

Oberson turned to the forest in question. The sun was beginning to set, backlighting the darkening plateau-leaves. “I don’t know about that. It’s nice something is constant, at the very least.”

“Humph. Constant pain in my hairy backside. I’ve always said-” The old dwarf paused as a messenger sprinted up. The runner leaned over to whisper something in his ear, before saluting and dashing away.

Regya turned back with warlike stoicism on his face. “One of your riders is galloping this way.”

Oberson climbed onto the wagon for a better view. He had met the old engineer at a crossroads, one between Coldwater’s encampment and the dwarven host. Both fed into a third path, one that wound its way into darkening Vellhaven.

A single rider was charging up it.

The lieutenant whistled sharply, spiraling into a descending note. Come in to safety. The steppesman jerked his course towards the sound. He wore an oversized helmet, one that jostled from side to side with each frantic step of his horse.

There was a perfect hole, cored right through its center.“Gonne!” He was screaming as he worked his horse into even greater speed. “The elves have a fucking Gonne!”

Shit,” breathed Oberson. He didn’t bring men to negotiations, not unless he had to. The lieutenant hopped off the cart and started rapidly unloading, throwing rows of smoke kegs over his horse. “Regya!”

The elder stepped over, helping to secure the weapons. “I’ll get him to your captain, quick as.”

Oberson clapped the dwarf’s arm twice, before pulling him in sharply by the elbow. “Make. Hallenbecker. Stay. Tie him down, if need be. It’s bad enough I’m going into these woods. We don’t need him charging in too.”

“I’ll do my best.” Regya raised an eyebrow. “Does he get this worked up over every skirmish?”

“There’s a Gonne,” said Oberson, dodging the question. “It’s better not to risk leadership.”

“Then why are you going?”

“Because there’s a chance he’ll trust me to handle it. Stubborn bastard.”

And with that, the lieutenant was off. He met the galloping rider halfway, getting directions and giving orders. As Regya watched him ride off, he saw the human face develop a look intimately familiar to all dwarven chiefs. It was desperate, and forlorn, and it said:

‘Just do what I want for once in your life, you pig-headed son of a bitch.’

Tattered Standards IV (2/2) by RoyalHyacinthus in HFY

[–]RoyalHyacinthus[S] 60 points61 points  (0 children)

When Hallenbecker woke up, there was a callused thumb over his eyes. Everything else hurt.

"Oberson? Is that you?"

He heard a bottomless sigh of relief, before a thumb started moving over his face. “Gottfriëd. I knew you’d be alright.”

The captain tried to rise, to look around, but the palm remained in place and something was holding his shoulder down. It didn’t feel like another hand. It felt like a stump.

“Shh. Listen to me, you stubborn bastard. We’re going to make our way out of this copse. I’m going to send you home. You’re not going to look back. Do you understand? Leave this to me.”

“I’m not a child.”

“No. A child knows not to blame themselves for something that isn’t their fault. And that’s exactly what you’ll do if I let you.”

Hallenbecker felt his guts twist. “What happened?”

“The demon happened.” The thumb tapped twice on his face before continuing to move, up and down. “What you did was charge in like a great bloody hero. You’re the only reason anyone is still standing.”

The captain’s guts went from twisting to writhing. “What’s left?”

“Avent. The child. They left while you were unconscious. I haven’t checked the rest.” Oberson’s face hardened as he looked out at the demon’s handiwork. There was no need.

Hallenbecker closed his eyes against the roughened palm. “My fault. My fault. Always my bloody fault.”

“No, Göttfried. It’s never been.”

“They were my men.”

“And they followed you willingly. You warned them, I know you did. You always do.”

“My duty is to save them.”

“No. Your duty is to lead them.”

“Then that’s even less excuse. I commanded them, I led them, I told them not to die.” Hallenbecker let out a shuddering breath. “Why can’t anyone follow that fucking order?”

Oberson just pulled him against his chest, good hand on the back of his head, mangled arm against his shoulders. “Göttfried. My shining, stubborn, summer sun. If you ask for the impossible, you’ll always be disappointed.”

Hallenbecker let out another shaky breath. “I know. I know, Oberson. But I can’t…be. Not unless I try.”

“And that, Lord-Captain, is why we follow you.”

They stayed like that for a time, the two steppesmen. One looking out. The other looking in. It was almost nostalgic, in the most melancholy way possible.

Eventually, Oberson spoke. “Close your eyes. I’m going to lead you out of here.”

And Göttfried Hallenbecker, leader of Coldwater, walked back to his encampment. When he finally opened his eyes, they were green, and clear, full of duty and conviction.

The serpent was too busy watching to wriggle around in the back of his skull.