Former Heroes

By Far Horizons

Pick up the cape that may no longer fit, strap on that armour which may need letting out, grab the sword, that is heavier than you remember, and join us for these seven exciting tales of Former Heroes. Stand shoulder to shoulder with heroes of former wars, find out what it takes to be a gentleman, join former enemies as they discover that all is

• Language: English
• Publisher: Far Horizons
• Release date: Mar 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9780995464117

Book preview

Former Heroes

A Far Horizons Press Anthology

Far Horizons Press

FAR HORIZONS is a FREE eMagazine, brought about from a simple idea to let unpublished, thinly published and self-published writers and artists showcase their work to the World.

The first issue was released on the 17th of April, 2014.

Far Horizons Press grew out of the magazine with a desire to bring the very best stories into print. Far Horizons Press titles are designed to provide a much needed income stream so we can continue to offer the magazine free of charge and continue to develop our writers and artists.

Former Heroes

Edited by

Pete Sutton and Kimberly Nugent

Far Horizons Press

Former Heroes

Edited by Pete Sutton and Kimberly Nugent

Published by Stacey Welsh

Cover art by Rose Campbell

First Edition Published

by Far Horizons Press

25 Jul 2015

This edition TBC

This is a work of fiction. Names, places and incidents are either products of the authors’ imaginations or used ficticiously. Any resemblences to actual persons, living or dead (except for satirical purposes) is entirely coincidental.

This edition © Far Horizons Press

Former Heroes © Kate Charles

Old Thom’s Tale © David Gullen

Brin Ironthews Meets His Destiny

© Gaie Sebold

Hero of the Alliance © Andrew Goodman

Memories in Stone © Jim King

The Unending Scream © Sara Townsend

Once Were Heroes © Pete Sutton

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-0-9954641-1-7

Cover illustration and design © Rose Campbell

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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Contents

Introduction

By Pete Sutton

Old Thom’s Tale

By David Gullen

Former Heroes

By Kate Charles

Brin Ironthews Meets His Destiny

By Gaie Sebold

Hero of the Alliance

By Andrew Goodman

Memories in Stone

By Jim King

The Unending Scream

By Sara Jayne Townsend

Once Were Heroes

By Pete Sutton

Afterword

By Stacey Welsh

About the writers

Former Heroes

Introduction

By Pete Sutton

Get off our path! they squeaked.

The four goblins stood at the top of the hill, their pointy faces stuck in a permanent scowl as they capered and waved their weapons. I laughed like a drain and looked around at my companions, fresh from basic training, kitted out with hand-me-downs and cast-offs. We shrugged and nodded at each other, getting shields and weapons ready.

Form up! Beaston Domestic, our Orcish scout, advised. And like that we ran up the path and into battle.

It was the late 80’s and I was on my Basic, an eight hour LARP adventure in the Mendip Hills organised by Bristol Polytechnic Roleplaying Society. Dressed in costume and using equipment lent by the Heroquest Club. I was hooked from the get go. So started a twenty year ‘career’ in LARP.

University wasn’t my first brush with the LARP world. In the 1980’s I went to school with Stuart Carey, the son of Peter Carey who introduced Liveroleplaying (LARP) to the UK at Peckforton Castle. There was a group of us, including Stuart, who did the roleplaying thing in school. We were happy for the reflected fame when Stuart was on Blue Peter at the Castle. We even did a ‘Twenty-Four hour roleplay’ for charity.

The LARP club I first went to, Heroquest, and continued with on and off until a couple of years ago, was created by Mark Roberts, who had been one of the Refs at the Castle. Small world, LARP.

I played for a couple of years before becoming interested in the organisational aspects. I’d run my own tabletop campaigns, in school and university, but running a LARP required additional skills.

Over the years costumes and equipment improved as more money was spent on the hobby. Stories also improved and I cut my teeth on story in a tough environment. LARP is one part improvised theatre with a plot that, although not made up on the fly, needs a careful balance of structure and fluidity. If you consider it as a story, then it is a story that your audience takes part in, and provide immediate critique and feedback as they do so.

Heroquest always aimed for epic and events could run up to five days. As the years passed and the stories became more complex, and emotionally satisfying, the interactive short stories became novelettes.

I was a Referee (Storyteller, LARPwright, call it what you will) in Heroquest for around twenty years. During that time I forged friendships with a wide variety of folk, many of whom are still good friends today. Eventually though all good things come to an end and when I found myself no longer a Heroquester (although to some extent – once a quester, always a quester) I turned to telling stories in a more traditional way.

The storytellers in this volume are all former Heroquesters and all friends I would never have met if it wasn’t for that mad, but wonderful, hobby. Some I’ve known for the full twenty years, others for less time, but one thing unites us, we are all writers. Independently the writers in this anthology have forged their own writing careers, be it in short stories, self-publishing or traditional publishing. Several of them have appeared in the pages of Far Horizons magazine. I decided to bring everyone together to tell some tales around the concept of ‘Former Heroes.’ I even slipped a story of my own between the covers.

We mulled over the brief for a while, should we work in a shared world? All do fantasy? Link the stories? But in the end we are all different as writers and the brief had to be pretty open. It’s an anthology about former heroes, folk (and in Jim’s memorable story – a building) who once were held on that pedestal and, for whatever reason, have fallen, or been pushed off.

It’s interesting to see how each author has tackled the brief. The stories range from trad fantasy to sci-fi, from horror to comical but never cease to entertain. So come with us on that journey, the glory days are over, we have shed our shields and dropped our swords. The goblins can keep their path, we can no longer charge them. Watch the armies approach and wonder where the Heroes are in David Gullen’s Old Thom’s Tale. Keep the Gentleman company in Kate Charles’s Former Heroes. Join the hero as Brin Ironthews Meets His Destiny in Gaie Sebold’s tale. Andrew Goodman finds his former heroes in space in his tale Heroes of the Alliance. Jim King proves that buildings can be heroic too in Memories in Stone. A troubled war veteran is the star of Sara Townsend’s tale The Unending Scream and the collection is finished off with a wry look at superheroes in my own tale Once Were Heroes.

I very much hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as we have telling them and if you need a former hero, we hope you find the ones in these pages sufficient.

Old Thom’s Tale

By David Gullen

He’d been sitting at the same bench for so long regulars called it ‘Old Thom’s place.’ Fair enough, it was Old Thom’s tavern after all. Maybe the dim light at the back of the little room was easier on his eyes. Perhaps a warrior’s pride needed the shadows to conceal his wounds.

A dozen young soldiers bundled through the front door, shields stashed outside, boisterous, looking for their food and drink.

Enrik, raw-boned and ruddy, was barely older than his men. Half an hour. One drink. It was half expected, they groaned anyway. Enrik fixed his eye on big Jorgi before returning outside, and one only.

As usual Jorgi got himself served first. Two pints, love, he said to the barwoman. She was wiry, thin, quick, competent, ready with her smile. Jorgi liked that. He looked her up and down. To his mind there was little up top and less below. Even so. He leaned on the bar. What’s your name?

Thilda.

Jorgi held her eye, he let his grin grow. Any extras?

Thilda’s laugh was well-practiced. Not a chance.

Mig sidled up beside Jorgi. He came up to the big man’s ear, armour hung off his thin frame. Too old for me.

Jorgi shrugged good-naturedly. I like a bit of experience.

Thilda put two tankards on the counter in front of Jorgi.

I’m next. Mig snapped down two pennies where she’d have to reach across.

Jorgi put a finger on one coin and slid it into his palm. One for you, ratty. Drink makes you mean.

More soldiers filled the small tavern. In the far dim corner Thom’s table was the only one with free space. Jorgi drained his first mug in a single swift pull, then took the other and sat on the bench beside Thom.

Mig laughed, narrow-eyed. He’s having a joke, I’ll get that back, he told Thilda, and dug in his purse for another coin. Two pints. His smile bared his front teeth. He’s not my master, no man is.

I can see that, Thilda said.

Jorgi liked the dark corners, a seat with his back to the wall. He looked Thom up and down, took in his broad shoulders, his watery eyes and trim white beard. Thom’s scarred left arm rested on the bench, his hand held an ancient pewter tankard, dented and bent, squashed out of and back into shape. Thom’s right arm was out of sight. Jorgi wasn’t keen about hidden hands. He leaned back, looked under the table and saw Thom’s right arm ended at the wrist. He grinned, there was nothing there to worry about. Nothing at all.

Young soldiers packed onto the bench. Jorgi shoved against Thom. Move up, old man.

Thom obligingly moved to the end of the bench.

Everyone had seats except Mig. He stood beside Thom, a tankard in each hand. That’s my place.

Thom looked Mig in the eye and the cocky smile slid off Mig’s mean face. Now everyone was watching, and Mig, who had fought, murdered, done worse and liked it all, knew he’d have to do something before they laughed. Then Jorgi shunted hard against Thom and pushed him off the bench onto the floor.

Now everyone did laugh. Mig stepped over Thom and, as he sat down, elbowed Thom’s ale onto the floor. Sorry.

Thom, who had landed hard, struggled to his feet. With one hand it wasn’t easy.

Enough! Enrik had seen everything. The soldiers round the bench froze. Those with their backs to Enrik grinned.

Help him up.

Jorgi reached past Mig, grabbed Thom’s collar and yanked him to his feet. No hard feelings.

Mig picked up Thom’s battered tankard. There you go, old man.

Enrik strode through the silent tavern and picked up Mig’s second beer. Supplies are ready, so get them loaded.

The soldiers gulped their beer and filed out.

Enrik collared Jorgi as he pushed past. Who do you think you’re fighting for?

Jorgi frowned, the question was meaningless, almost offensive.

Enrik hissed with exasperation. Get out.

Mig hung back, his eyes on the mug in Enrik’s hand.

Now! Enrik yelled in his face.

Mig jerked like he was on strings and scurried out of the door.

Enrik sat opposite Thom. "I’m sorry about that.’

Thom shrugged, a half-smile. Forget it. Soldiers are idiots. I should know.

Enrik put down Mig’s second pint. I’d say this is yours.

Half of it.

Enrik tipped ale into Thom’s tankard then raised his own mug. Your good health, old warrior.

Thom didn’t smile. Yours.

They drank. Thom waved his hand vaguely towards the far end of the valley. How far?

The Ridgeway.

Thom’s eyes widened. To the end?

Enrik nodded. Indigo Pastures. Fallen Wall.

Not enough men.

There’s a rendezvous on the Ridgeway, three more squads. We’re not going to hold, just take a look.

Thom’s mouth twisted. Reconnaissance in force.

Enrik sat back. Were you an officer?

Now Thom did smile. No, no. Just a man. The smile faded. Just a man.

Thom