Relic Hunters
Note: This is my first attempt at story writing. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Relic Hunters
Chapter One: Of Beginnings...
"Heads up mate!"
James watched as the tennis ball was thrown high into the air, his opponent's racket meeting the ball on its downward path, smoothly sending it over the net into James' court. James took a step forward, lining his racket up with the incoming ball, returning it back over the net. His adversary for this match, a tall lanky youth named Chris, executed a perfect backhand, launching it back at James. Their duel continued for several minutes before Chris performed a long shot, sending the ball into the back right corner of James' court. With a desperate lunge, James leapt towards the speeding ball, racket outstretched in a desperate attempt to return the ball.
His failure was somewhat spectacular. Not only did he narrowly miss the ball, but he landed face first into the court turf, sliding along for a metre. Slowly, he picked himself up, dusting off his school sport uniform and tenderly assessing a stinging graze on his right cheek. He was thankful that due to it being a cool winter's day, he had been wearing the school sport tracksuit, so the grazing was only to his hands and cheek. From the other side of the net, Chris was doubled over laughing at James' performance, while several other students, waiting for a court to become free, were laughing and re-watching the recordings they had made on their phones. The combined humiliation and pain from the fall mildly annoyed James. As one of the less popular students at the remote, bush surrounded private school, St John's Grammar, he was accustomed to such ridicule. None the less, the experience was never pleasant.
With a determined stride, James walked over to the wayward ball. Having lost yet another match, the score was now 4 to 0, Chris' way, and James was now serving. Stepping up to the back line of the court, James observed his opponents court. Chris stood in the centre back of his court. A few metres behind him stood the 4 metre tall wire mesh fence that bordered the tennis courts, and marked one of the boundaries between the school campus, and the Australian bush. With a wry smile, James quickly plotted a way to cause Chris some grief. It was an unofficial policy that should a ball be hit over the fence and into the bush, the student closest to the bush was the one to find it. Most of the sport staff preferred students to simply use another ball, rather than risk venturing into the dense bush looking for lost balls. Fortunately for James, prior to their match, younger students from the junior school had been playing, and found it entertaining to launch all of their balls over the fence in order to have a valid reason to play in the bush for a short while. Thus, there was a shortage of balls, with James and Chris only having one to play with. Grinning maliciously, James performed his serve, angling the racket so as to send the ball flying high over the net, high over Chris' head, over the mesh fence and deep into the bush. With a satisfied smile, James looked at Chris and made a mocking waving motion towards the bush, implying that Chris should start looking.
It was at that point that James' plan fell to pieces. An observing teacher walked up to their court and asked "Was that your only ball?" in an exasperated tone, knowing all too well that their answer would be yes. "Yes sir..." Chris replied, "... James just hit our only ball over the fence."
"Accidentally of course..." James replied in a half sarcastic, half offended tone. The teacher sighed, knowing that he would have to send one of them to retrieve the ball. "James, go and find it." he said, turning to monitor the other students on the courts. "But sir..." James said with a look of dissatisfaction on his face, "...Chris is closest to the bush, shouldn't he...". The teacher looked over his shoulder, his face showing his annoyance at having his directions questioned. "I don't care who's closest, I told you to go and find it."
With a defeated slump of his shoulders, James made his way to the gate in the fence. Passing Chris he muttered "Be back in a sec.", before opening the gate and venturing forth into the bush. Ordinarily, balls would be within a few metres from the fence, easily spotted and retrieved. James, however, had intentionally hit the ball in such a way that rather than landing a few metres from the fence, it had landed over a dozen metres into the dense scrub. Pushing aside tree branches and low lying bushes, James made his way in the general direction he had last seen the ball heading, his eyes focussed on the ground, paying little attention to his surroundings, or how fast his view of the tennis courts was disappearing. "Why the bloody hell did I have to hit it so damn far?" James asked himself.
Five minutes later, James was still walking in a relatively straight line, looking for the damned ball. He reasoned that there was no possible way he could have hit it this far, and decided to turn back, continuing his search back towards the courts. Feeling a much colder wind blowing, he did up his track jacket and turned around to head back. That was when he noticed things weren't as they should have been. Instead of wattle bushes, eucalyptus trees and general Australian bush, there was a forest. Pine and coniferous trees had replaced their Australian counterparts, and instead of the traditional, familiar bush, James felt as if he were in a European forest. Not believing his eyes, he closed them tightly, and went through the cliché motions of rubbing his eyes in disbelief. He was still surrounded by forest instead of bush. As well as that, the sky was grey instead of cloudless blue, and instead of a mild 24 degrees Celsius , it felt closer to 10 degrees.
Feeling a growing sense of fear inside him, James broke into a brisk jog back along the way he thought he had come. Five minutes passed, then ten, fifteen minutes. After nearly half an hour of jogging in the direction he had come, he had still not returned to the courts. Even if he had turned slightly to either side of his travelled path, he would still have come across some part of the school by now. Slowing to a walk, he leant up against a tree, catching his breath and trying desperately to fight his growing panic. Not only was he lost, but he was lost in a strange new place, which he couldn't explain. Determined that he was just being a hypochondriac, he continued on his way at a slow, wary walk, carefully examining his surroundings, hoping to see some evidence of the familiar Australian bush, or better still, his school. Forcing his way through a series of shoulder high bushes, he came out into a clearing, rising into a hill. Hoping to survey his surroundings from height, he made his way up the hill. When he reached the top, his world flipped upside down yet again.
Instead of standing atop a hill, James found himself standing at the edge of a steeply sloping cliff, covered with small scrubby bushes and scraggly trees, and dropping some twenty or so metres. At the base of the cliff was a moderately sized river winding its way with the contours of the cliff. Beyond the river was more forest, dotted with clearings before eventually breaking into open fields. And beyond that... he could scarcely believe his eyes. Off in the distance was a city. But unlike the cities he had grown up with, instead of apartments and industrial complexes, there was a large walled castle. Instead of skyscrapers, there were towers and battlements. Instead of the traditional suburbia that surrounded modern cities, there was what appeared to be single storey and multi storey thatched roofed buildings. And upon looking closer at the clearings between the forest and this city, James could see several farmsteads dotting the country side.
To use the time honoured quote, James was not in Kansas anymore.
"Quite the view, isn't it?" came a voice from behind him. Startled, he spun around to see who had spoken. He found himself face to face with a fox. But James' mind reasoned that this was not a normal fox...
...because normal foxes did not stand face to face with people...
...normal foxes did not wear hooded cloaks with leather belts...
...normal foxes did not have arms, or have bows and quivers strapped to their backs...
...normal foxes did not have almost human eyes...
...normal foxes did not have breasts...
...and normal foxes most definitely did not speak...
The creature standing before James was obviously female, unless there was another explanation for the two mounds jutting out from its chest. Its head was cocked to one side in a canine fashion of curiosity, its eyes, a jade green colour, carefully examining James. Correcting its head, the creature opened its mouth and in a surprisingly human voice asked "Who are you?".
James couldn't tell what surprised him more. The fact that this creature was dressed and equipped as a human might have been during the medieval times, or the fact that he might have mistaken this creatures voice for the voice of a human girl his own age, had he not know what it was.
The creature's eyes narrowed as it eyed James' clothing. "You wear some rather odd garments...where are you from?" it asked. Amazed and frightened by the creature in front of him, James took a step back away from it, forgetting the steep drop behind him. The creature realised he was going to back off the edge, and with a startled cry, leapt forward to pull James back. Thinking the creature was about to attack him, James lunged back, dodging its hands, and falling over the edge. His initial fall was broken after a few metres by a small scraggly tree, which gave way under his weight, depositing him on the steep slope. Tumbling down head over heels, James collected several cuts, bruises and a few broken ribs. Eventually, his fall landed him in the river, his tracksuit, now heavy with water, pulling him under the surface. He kicked off from the bottom of the river, surfacing with a violent intake of air, before making his way to the nearest bank. His energy sapped by the cold water, James was barely able to crawl up the bank, before collapsing from exhaustion.
And then the pain came. His adrenaline fading, James became aware of the multiple injuries he had sustained during the fall, and softly moaned as each breath moved his broken ribs. In an attempt to alleviate the pain, he carefully rolled onto his back. Closing his eyes, he tried to recover from his ordeal. Shivering from the cold he now acutely felt, James slowly drifted off into unconsciousness.
He awoke to the sound of moving foliage. Opening his eyes and looking up, James came eye to eye with the fox creature he had encountered earlier. It was kneeling over him, examining his body, checking his injuries. It lightly pressed a hand to his chest, causing a fair amount of pain. James gasped sharply from the pain, and the creature withdrew its hand quickly, a look of concern appearing on its face. There was more rustling of foliage, and the creature looked up. Following its gaze, James looked to his left, and saw more creatures advancing on them. Several were like the fox creature, though of different animal species. What was puzzling was the presence of several humans. All were garbed with various cloaks and leather belts and armour, armed with a variety of knives, swords and bows. They appeared as if they had just walked out of a medieval convention.
The fox creature over James motioned to one of them to come over. One of the new animal creatures came forth, a spotted cat of some kind, with grey and white fur. Kneeling on the other side of James, it began conversing with the fox creature.
"Is he injured seriously?" the cat asked in a concerned tone.
"It's hard to tell. Aside from the cuts and bruises, it looks like he has some broken ribs. I can't seem to find anything else, but he probably needs a physician to examine him."
"I'll apply some healing salve." The cat said to the fox.
One of the humans had come over, a tall man with short cropped brown hair. "You really shouldn't jump off of high places..." he joked. "...people tend to hurt themselves that way."
Feeling confused, James finally summoned up the courage to talk. "Who are you, and what are they?" he asked the man, nudging his head in the direction of the fox. The man looked puzzled at James' query. "My name is Karl, and how do you not know of the anthros?". James looked astonished at Karl's casual acceptance of their existence. "What do you mean 'how do I not know of the anthros'?" he asked, exasperated. "Where the hell am I?" he asked, sitting up as he did so. The movement caused him discomfort, but his need for information temporarily overrode the pain. "We are in the woods of Farath" Karl responded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he examined James' clothing. A sudden wind blew through the group. James, still soaking from the river shivered involuntarily. The fox to his right noticed this, and realized he was wet. "He's soaking wet..." it explained to Karl. "He's going to freeze at this rate, we need to get him warm very soon." Karl looked up along the bank thoughtfully, and barked out orders to the others in his group. Feeling cold and completely exhausted, James began to slump to his right. He was caught by the fox, who righted him, before embracing him and drawing its cloak around him. It started saying something to Karl, but at that point, James once again succumbed to the darkness.
It was several hours later when James awoke. He was lying on his back in front of a warm fire. The cat, anthro as Karl had said, from before was kneeling over him, tending to his ribs and cuts. When it noticed he was awake, it smiled shyly, softly blushing. James then realized that except for his underwear, he was naked. His legs and abdomen were covered by a warm blanket, while his chest was bare, save for the bandages securing his broken ribs. The cat anthro continued applying a paste to the cuts on his chest and shoulders. When it was finished the cat got up, giving James one last smile, before heading over to the nearby river to wash its hands. James slowly propped himself up on his elbows, and surveyed his surroundings. The group of people and anthros that had found him were all seated around the fire. Some ate, some talked with others. Some were rubbing swords down with oiled cloths, or were making small repairs to their armour and weapons. They were an odd mixture of both men and women, humans and anthros. His eyes came upon two familiar forms, the fox anthro and the human Karl. Both were standing away from the fire, deep in conversation. James strained to listen to what they were saying, but could hear nothing over the crackles of the fire. He concluded that they must have been talking about him, as every so often, one of them would look over to where James lay. After a short while, they both returned to the fire, Karl taking a seat beside James. "I never did get your name." he said to James, staring into the dancing flames. "It's James." he responded, studying Karl's features. He appeared to be in his mid thirties, and had a solidly built frame. His face was angular with a square jaw, lightly covered with stubble. He wore a dark green hooded cloak, under which he wore a leather vest of some sort. Karl turned to face him, "You can't be from around here, judging by your clothes and ignorance of the anthros.". James let the last part slide. "No...I'm not from around here...I don't even know where 'here' is" he replied. "One minute I was in the bush outside my school, and the next, I'm being confronted by talking animals and falling down mountains.". Karl chuckled lightly. "I'd hardly call that little tumble of yours 'falling down a mountain'". He thought back to what James had said. "There aren't any 'schools' near here..." he told James, "...and I've never seen clothing such as yours. Where exactly do you come from?". James thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain where he was from. "I came from a country called 'Australia'. We don't have woods like these there, and we definitely don't have talking animals.". Karl looked at him intently. "I've never heard of such a place. And to the best of my knowledge, there is no place here where there are no anthros." he said. The look on his face as he said this indicated to James that he did not believe him. Getting up, he made his way over to the river, where the cat anthro was washing, and conversed with it for a short while. Shortly, the cat anthro made its way over to James, kneeling to one side and placing a hand against his forehead. "What are you doing?" he inquired. "I'm just looking to see if you have a temperature..." it responded.
James began to feel a small pressure inside his head, and after a few short seconds, the cat anthro removed its hand. Karl made his way over and looked at the anthro. "He was telling the truth Karl" it said. "That wasn't checking for a temperature..." James said, "...what the hell did you just do?".
"She determined that you were telling the truth." Karl replied. The cat anthro looked slightly abashed at having been caught, and withdrew to the other side of the fire. After a few moments, the rest of the assorted group stood, and began packing their respective equipment. Another human, clad in black, approached Karl. "Well, yet another successful harvest." He said to Karl, clapping him on the shoulder. "Me and my crew are going to take our share and head off...'tis a long way back to the northern cities." He informed Karl. Karl simply nodded at this statement, gazing into the fire. "A pleasure working with the Black Lance mercenaries, as always..." Karl responded offhandedly, before turning to face the other human. "May you have a safe trip" he said, extending his hand. The other human took it, and after a brief shake, returned to 'his' group, and led them off into the darkness.
With their departure, the group now comprised of James, Karl and the two anthros. "Well..." Karl asked his companions, "...what did we collect this time?". "Well, we got that 'mystical' artefact we were contracted to retrieve..." the fox replied, "...some enchanted weapons and armour, some gold..." it finished. "Those potions and scrolls as well." the cat added. Karl turned to the fox. "When are we due back in Anne?" he asked. The fox, who seemed to go by the name 'Anne' replied "In another day or so. We'll need to start making our way back in morning." The fox laid down on a blanket by the fire and stretched out. "And when we get back, I'm spending half my share in the nearest tavern" the fox commented with a laugh. Karl chuckled softly at that remark, before turning to James. "Well, I guess you will be joining us back to Greydar, young James" he said. "It's a solid day by foot, so you should get some rest." He concluded, before taking a seat by the fire. James looked at his company...now his travelling companions for the next two days. The fox, Anne, laid by the fire, a look of unconcern on its face, though at every sound in the forest, an ear would cock in that direction. Karl sat with his back to the fire, gazing into the forest, keeping watch. The cat sat close by James, gazing into the fire, its arms wrapped around its legs, which were drawn up to its chest. James shifted his gaze to the fire as well, the dancing flames having an almost hypnotic effect on him. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to the sound of water being splashed on the campfire. Slowly opening his eyes, he rolled to his side and carefully got up. Anne noticed his actions, and took a bundle of clothing from one of the packs. It tossed them over to James, "It's a good thing those Black Lance bastards left us some of their spare clothes..." it laughed, "...you look like you need them". James looked down and realised he was still only in his underwear. Smiling sheepishly, he retrieved the clothes and dressed himself. His new outfit consisted of a pair of semi form fitting black pants, made from a coarse material. The knees and shins of the pants had a thin layer of fabric covered leather acting as padding. A white woollen undershirt and a black tunic made of the same coarse material with similar padding on the forearms and elbows complimented the pants, along with a pair of black, thick leathered boots. To complete the ensemble was a hooded cloak, similar to the ones his companions wore. It was made of what appeared to be a waterproof dark green material, lined on the inside with a thin layer of dyed fleece. After briefly admiring his new outfit, James gingerly poked at his chest, testing his ribs.
"Don't do that." the cat warned, walking up to him. "If you disturb those broken ribs, I will have to reset them. And that will make for a most unpleasant journey.". James stopped his poking, and turned to face the cat. "I never did catch your name..." he said. "It's Erin." she replied with a small smile. "There was some porridge warming by the fire, if you want some breakfast" she continued, before returning to her packing. James walked over to what used to be the campfire and picked up a small bowl of porridge, before returning to Erin. She (James had decided to stop referring to the anthros as 'its'.) had her back to James, kneeling before her pack, her spotted tail gently swaying from side to side. "So, what sort of cat are you?" he inquired. "I'm not a cat...I'm actually a snow leopard" she replied, closing the top of her pack and hoisting it to her shoulders. Anne and Karl joined them, carrying their respective packs on their shoulders. "Well, if we start now, we should make the edge of the forest by nightfall if we start now." Karl informed the group. "James, as you have no equipment of your own, you shall carry the relics we recovered." he continued, pointing to a rather large and heavy looking pack. With an internal groan, James mounted the relic pack on his shoulders, and took off after the others, heading into the depths of the forest.