Tales of Mythology Part I: The Plan

1-THE PLAN

IF YOU ARE A NEW WRITER READING THIS, DON'T BOTHER. I NEVER FINISHED IT.

“How are we going to take Troy?”
“I don’t know,” said Galis. “I will try to come up with a plan. Troy is heavily guarded and has a huge army. We will need to make allies in order to attack it. The Greek army here in this city is not enough to conquer Troy alone.”
“I, too, shall try to think of a plan,” said Larin. Galis nodded. Then they parted and went back to their homes.
Galis was all but ruler of the Greek empire. He was not just a normal soldier, but led them as they marched into battle. He was one of the most skilled swordsmen in the country, and no archer could aim more accurately than his best friend, Larin.
As he walked through the dirt roads of the city of Rhehana where he lived, his mind was full of different plans to attack the great city Troy. Rhehana’s army was not the strongest in the world, but if they could manage to capture Troy, the huge Trojan army might finally believe they were a force to be reckoned with, and some might go over to their side. Year after year, the Trojans had slowly picked off more and more of the Greek army, and Galis was tired of it.
Then, as if by magic, an idea popped into his head. Troy was at the center of four great cities. One of these, Rhehana, was a Greek city. The other three were small Wanderer villages. Wanderers were people that had no home country. They traveled the world, making many small, temporary settlements before moving on, unlike most countries, which had one huge empire and then had smaller cities scattered throughout their country.
The Greeks did not have a huge central empire, which was Rhehana, so they could not call upon a bigger army to help them. They could make allies with the Wanderers and then each attack one gate of Troy. They could surround the city with their combined armies and capture the city.
It was a perfect plan. He immediately turned back and started toward Larin’s house. When he got their, he went in and told Larin of his plan.
“It is an excellent plan,” said Larin. “Shall we start out to the village in the east tomorrow?”
“Yes,” said Galis. “We will destroy the Trojan army and finally end this war!”
“It’s about time,” said Larin.

They would not be in danger until they got to the first village. It was possible that the Wanderers would not want to make friends with them. If that happened, their plan would fail and the Trojan War would go on until they came up with a new one.
It was not long before they reached the first village. They had to be careful to go widely around Troy so they wouldn’t be noticed by the lookouts on its huge watch towers. The only one coming with Galis was Larin.
“Look, the first village is over there,” said Larin. Soon they reached the wooden walls that surrounded it. A gate opened and a woman came out riding on a gray horse.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I am Galis, leader of the Greek empire, and this is my trusted friend, Larin.”
“What is your purpose here?” said the Wanderer, narrowing her green eyes at Galis.
“We wish to make friends you and the people of your village.”
“Why would we want to be you allies?” asked the woman.
“You have heard of the great Trojan War, yes?” said Larin.
“I have, but I am not interested in it. I want nothing to do with war. My people and I want only to live a peaceful life until we move on again to the next settlment.”
“We must defeat Troy,” said Larin. “and we cannot do it on our own. We havae come to your village here to the east of Troy. Then we will go to the village north of Troy, and then to the west. Our empire is in the south.”
“I will not help you,” said the woman.
“Maybe I can give you something to convince you.”
“Like what?”
“I can give you nothing now but money,” said Galis.
“Money will not convince me to go to war with allies I’ve never met and enemies I have never seen.”
“Maybe later, then,” said Galis. “If you help us fight now, I will give you something much more valuable than money.”
“And what could that possibly be?” whispered Larin so quietly only Galis could hear. He looked sharply at Larin, and he shut his mouth.
“I will hold you to your word, Galis, and if I do not get my prize, I will personally rip you apart with my new sword.”
“I am Korana, leader of this Wanderer clan. You are welcome in this village…for now.”
“We do not care if we are welcome in your village,” said Larin. “Will you help us fight Troy?”
“Yes.”

Galis drew his sword. He could hear the rumbling in the distance, but he did not know what it was. Larin was at his side. Korana was in one of the watch towers. She called down to them, “Oras!”
Galis did not have to ask what these were. He had once been attacked by a group of Oras and had to fight them off by himself. They were a kind of Wanderer, but much more vicious. Oras had no allies and tore down anything they saw. They did, however, worship a God. An evil one; Cronos.
Oras were not human. They had slimy brown skin and small, evil eyes. The carried clubs, but the clubs had spikes all over them, making them even more deadly.
Then they came in, pouring into the village from over the walls. Oras’ strength was that they could climb and swing through trees. Soon the village was flooded with them. The villagers ran into the town center or into their houses where it would give them temporary safety. Galis ripped through an Ora with his sword. Then something wasa hurled at his head. He ducked, turned, and saw a spiky ball on a chain laying on the ground.
It was the Oras’ form of a ranged weapon. They were crouching on top of the wall, accurately throwing the weapons down at the battle. Larin was on top of a building, using his arrows and spears to kill the Oras, but they were outnumbered.
He knew the Wanderers had some kind of army, and it finally came. It was a small army of about fifty men. Most of them carried long, thin swords, but some had bows and arrows.
They joined Galis in the battle. Another spikey ball flew at him. He threw himself to the ground and the weapon whizzed over his head. An Ora came up to him, its sharp dagger raised, ready to stab him. Galis rolled out of the way, jumped up, and slashed through the Ora. He turned and stabbed another one with his sword. Amazingly, the Ora was still alive afterwards. It jumped up and lunged at him in fury, swiping its knife through the air. He cut it in half and then jumped to the left as another Ora hurled itself at him. Then an arrow hit the Ora and speared it in the head. Galis looked up and saw a building next to the town center that was firing arrows at the Oras.
Meanwhile Larin was on top of that building firing his arrows somewhere else: at the walls. He killed Ora after Ora, but there were too many. It seemed impossible to kill all of them.The infantry kept streaming in from over the walls, and two more ball-throwers seemed to appear for every one that was killed.
Larin darted around the roof, dodging the balls, shooting arrows, and throwing the balls back at the Oras. Then all the Oras suddenly stopped fighting.
Surprised, the Wanderers, Galis, Larin and Korana stopped too. Then the sky darkened. “The Oras are calling upon their god for help,” said Korana.
Fear filled Galis. He knew what kind of destructive power an army could use when the gods were on their side. Then the earth started to tremble. The ground cracked. It was an earthquake. Galis dove out of the way as a tree crashed down to the ground. He hit the ground hard, and was nearly knocked unconscious. The stone beneath him split apart. He jumped to his feet and dove away from the flaming crack. Fire burst from the crack, raining down on Galis and the Wanderer’s army. Chunks of flaming rock flew at the wooden buildings, making them catch on fire. Smoke and dust filled the air.
“Larin!” Galis shouted. There was no answer. He was knocked to the ground as waves began rolling over the ground like waves in the ocean. The ground shook so much he could not get up. He let himself be tossed around by the chaos. He knew this was the end. Now Greece would fight Troy for eternity. Neither one would ever give up.
He rolled over onto his back. Through the haze of smoke and the roar and light of the fire, he could see a short, stubby figure leaning over him. It was an Ora. With a dagger. An Ora with a dagger.
Then he realized he had not been thinking straight. But it was too late. The Ora was real, and so was the dagger. But the Ora no longer had the dagger.
It had been plunged into his stomach.
Theen all Galis could see was a blur of fire and dark shapes. Soon, all was black.