BOOK 1: THE ROYAL SOLDIERS

Written By Christian A. Ciccone: aka Sykonee (~)

Based on events from Dragon Warrior IV

"Order and unity is the way of the world...and our lives. Break that unity and the world falls into chaos..."

- Frederick Calgor: IXth Royal Soldier of Burland, 5th Century

Chapter 1: Enter The Royal Soldiers

Ragnar Calgor walked an easy pace to the conference room despite the urgency of the meeting. Although usually quick to respond to a call from the King, he was in no real hurry to sit at a table with young soldiers complaining to him about their uniforms or wages.

A disgusted snort involuntarily escaped from the captain; the very thought of a royal soldier being paid to service his kingdom made Ragnar's stomach turn. When he first joined the royal soldiers, their only concern was to the King and the protection of Burland's citizens. Sadly, many of the skilled warriors in the kingdom since then saw their abilities better suited for the mercenary trade. The only way to attract new soldiers was to pay for their services. There were a few who still served their duties by the traditional ways but, unfortunately, what they had in heart they severely lacked in skill.

It truly was a terrible state the proud heritage of the kingdom's protectors had fallen into and, as captain of the Royal Soldiers, Ragnar could not help but feel some responsibility towards its downfall. Whatever it would take though, he promised himself that, before he retired, the name of the Burland Royal Soldiers would once more be held in high regard.

Upon arriving at the meeting room, Ragnar could already hear some of his soldiers bickering amongst each other. Looks like I'll have to make a dramatic entrance, he thought bitterly. Ragnar steeled his eyes and barged into the meeting room.

"What's all this bickering about!" he demanded in a commanding tone. Most of the soldiers jumped out of their seats and saluted to Ragnar as a superior. At least some things haven't changed, he thought.

"Well," Ragnar said, tapping his foot. "What's going on here?"

"It's Sir Elric, Sir Ragnar," one of the youth's replied. It was Sir Sandor making the accusation. Sandor was a bit of a problem for Ragnar. He was a very disobedient soldier but an exceptional fighter. Although Ragnar was far superior in technique, Sandor was more agile and cunning. Most of their spars had ended in stalemates of late and Ragnar could easily see Sandor becoming next in line for captain. That was, so long as his disregard of standard rules and regulations no longer was an issue.

"What about Sir Elric?" Ragnar asked Sandor.

"He's been seeing my woman and I won't stand for it!" Sandor said, nearly fuming.

"That's a lie!" Elric, who was not much younger than Sandor, exclaimed. "I just helped her carry her baggage from the store. It was my duty as a royal soldier to aid a lady in distress." Ragnar heard a snicker from one of the other soldiers but he couldn't place the source, so he let it slide.

Ragnar sighed. He really was not the father type to discipline in personal affairs. He believed that one should stay out of another's private life; however, as the captain, he had to do something to maintain order amongst the other soldiers.

"All right," he finally said after a moment's thought. "Let's work this out. Sir Sandor, you said that you saw Sir Elric with your 'woman'. What was he doing?"

"He was carrying her shopping bag to her home," Sandor explained. "And the way they were talking and laughing with each other, it's clearly obvious that something's going on!"

"Is this true?" Ragnar asked Elric as he rubbed his bushy mustache.

"I admit we were talking and telling a few jokes to each other," Elric shrugged, "but where's the harm in that?"

"You see!" Sandor exclaimed, pointing a finger at Elric. "He even admits it!"

"Um, yes," Ragnar said, trying hard not to laugh. He couldn't believe how these young soldiers would overact to the smallest things. Gaining his composure, Ragnar stood straight and said in a serious voice, "Sir Elric, I find you guilty of interacting with a fellow human being. Now, take your seat and never do it again."

The rest of the soldiers began to laugh. Sandor flushed a deep red with humiliation. Elric looked around and slowly sat back down, unsure if Ragnar was serious or joking.

Ragnar smiled as he sat down at his seat. He liked to make a fool of Sandor every so often. It put the young soldier at a disadvantage and deflated a large enough ego.

"Nicely done, Ragnar," the soldier beside him said.

"Thanks, Sir Harald," Ragnar said. Harald was the only royal soldier that was older than Ragnar, by at least ten years, and held his elder in high regard. Harald had taught Ragnar how to fight with skill instead of brute strength, and had been a good friend as Ragnar had grown up as a royal soldier. "You just have to put these guys in their right place."

"That's for sure," Harald said. "And, please, just call me Harald."

"We're on duty right now," Ragnar said.

"You never change, do you?"

"Wouldn't for the world, Sir Harald," Ragnar smiled.

"You could be a little more relaxed, you know."

"And what? Become like them?" Ragnar gestured to the other royal soldiers, who were talking, or arm wrestling to see who was the strongest. "Just look at how bad it's gotten.

"Sir Sandor's one of the best soldiers we have but he's egotistical and self-centered, hardly becoming traits of a good soldier.

"Sir Elric at least tries to keep up our traditions but is too gullible.

"Sir Garn's a decent warrior but worries more about whether he's going to find a woman to show his skill off to before he grows old than his actual duties.

"Sir Mandrake is here only because it pays better than being on guard duty all day long.

"Sir Darnell has delusions of grandeur and hopes of great adventure instead of keeping consistent with his swordsmanship.

"And then Sir Denuve, who's as clumsy and incompetent as they get."

"And your point would be?" Harald asked.

"That the once proud royal soldiers of Burland are beginning to crumble around us," Ragnar sadly stated. "You and I are pretty much what are left of the old ways."

"Maybe so," Harald said, "but it takes young blood to carry on tradition."

Ragnar just shrugged solemnly.