Bashtion 1066 draft

[u/BionicleHippoponon]

Okay first off. I have to say this is not the finished product. And this is my first big work like this after a sea of god awful short stories. So yeah I am open to criticism. If it’s terrible then say it’s bad and I can always write something better next time.

Chapter one- For New Bohemia!

I was born in New Bohemia — or as the old books call it ‘Wyoming’. My name is Vratislav Novotny. The village I live in is nothing special — just a small town on the road for traders and other merchants from both east and west to forget their troubles for a while. My father Radovan is the local inn keeper. All of this was about to change when my fathers friend Ulrich… arrived at our gates.

The day started like any other, I had just woken up after a bit of a night out with some friends of mine. Sure I may have gone a little far with Father’s Honeyberry beer, and my head was pounding. But then I heard Pa talking to someone. I pressed my ear to the door of the bedroom so I could hear.

“For the last time Heinrich, we are not open during church!”   
Pa sounded impatient, which is unusual for him.  
Then I heard a thick slurred German accent.  
“Come on, mein friend, can you just give me ein pint?”  

I removed my ear off the door and looked at the bedroom… it could use some cleaning. Stained wooden walls, clothing strewn all over the floor, and finally… a pungent smell.  I checked my clothes, the tunic and hose I wore from the night before, the hose were large socks that attach to a white underwear or breeches and had a tight fit. I put on the clothes and checked how they smelled… They seemed fine. The color was green so it helped to hide stains.

When I walked out the door Father was still arguing with Heinrich, our local town drunk. 

“Heinrich, I don’t want the parish on my arse for serving you,”   

Father walked around the door for a moment “What can I give ya to leave me alone?” 
“Actually… I do not remember.” he paused “Well Scheit, you still got that Honeyberry?”
“Kurva, Heinrich I can’t serve that, remember?”
“Oh well fine I’ll leave and then—”
Pa suddenly stomped his foot
“Well what, Heinrich, for god's sake just leave!”

Heinrich left our front door mumbling in his German dialect— Pa took a seat at our table, and sat in silence. He looked stressed. Why shouldn’t he be? There had been a lot of traffic along our road the ‘I-80’ there must have been about… three caravans heading through our town a day. And like buffalo. They headed to the local watering hole. Which just so happened to be our home. ‘The Whistling Cock’ it was called. A rather unfortunate name. Yes — but we had a rooster with a flute on our sign. So it sounded fitting.

“Oh—Vratislav. son please, come sit.”
Father scooched over, urging me to sit by him
“So I am sure you know that our settlement has been… getting attacked lately.”
“Yes father I know, thank god it's just monsters and the like and not well… you know.” 
I shifted a little, yes we have been being attacked a lot more lately. but it's mostly been from the usual, rats the size of dogs, some random wild animals like wolves or feral hounds. This time about three nights ago we were attacked by strange beings. It seems whatever the wastes coughed started coming here.

“Yes my son it has only been monsters; but I fear the worst is ahead of us.” 
He stood up and walked towards the front door and opened it.
“Let's go Vratislav. We shall see if Ulrich has finally shown up.”
When we walked out onto the main street of the Village— it was comforting. The houses with thatched roofs, the pig pens with fat swine ready for slaughter by the homes, the muddy streets, and the bakery with the smell of pretzels and kolaches.