WebNovels

Chapter 2 - Pitchforks and Panic

Jade's arm stung where the burly man's stick had landed, and his brain was still playing catch-up. The guy, claiming to be his father, stood over him, red-faced and waving that gnarled stick like a grumpy wizard.

"Move it, Jade!" the man bellowed, his voice carrying the gravel of someone who'd spent years shouting at goats. "You and your good-for-nothing friends think you can loaf around during harvest? The fields won't plow themselves!"

Jade blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Uh, sir, I think there's been a mistake. I'm not—"

The stick swung again, narrowly missing Jade's shoulder as he ducked. "Mistake? I'll show you a mistake!" The man stomped forward, forcing Jade to backpedal into Nathaniel, who yelped and tripped over a stray bucket.

"Ow! Watch it!" Nathaniel scrambled up, brushing dirt off his scratchy tunic. "This guy's unhinged! What's his deal?"

"Maybe he's your dad too," Numerius said, grinning despite the chaos. He was leaning against the alley wall, arms crossed, looking way too relaxed for someone who'd just woken up in a medieval nightmare. "You gonna call him Pops?"

"Shut up, Num," Nathaniel snapped, "This isn't funny! We're in some… some cult village or something! We need to find a phone, or a cop, or—"

"Enough!" the man roared, pointing his stick at the group like it was a royal scepter. "Jade, Nathaniel, Numerius, Yuzon, Mataranas, get to the fields, or I'll tan your hides and sell you to the tanner!"

The group froze, exchanging wide-eyed looks. "How does he know our names?" Yuzon whispered, his voice barely audible. He was crouched near a pile of straw, his sharp eyes scanning the man's face.

"No clue," Jade muttered, his hand resting on the rusty dagger at his belt. "Okay, uh, sir—Pops, whatever. We'll… go to the fields. Just point us there."

The man snorted, lowering his stick. "That way, you dimwit." He jabbed a thumb toward a dirt path leading out of the alley. "And don't dawdle. The overseer's got no patience for slackers." He stomped off, muttering about "useless youths" and "wasted potential."

The group stood in stunned silence as the man's footsteps faded. Mataranas, still clutching his makeshift wooden plank-shield, finally spoke. "That was weird."

"Understatement of the century," Nathaniel said, pacing in a tight circle. "Okay, okay, let's think. We were gaming, we passed out in our sleep, and now we're….ye-yes that might be it, its a prank, or a movie!"

"movie?" Numerius raised an eyebrow, kicking a pebble across the alley. "You see any cameras? Any directors yelling 'cut'? This ain't a movie set, Nate. That guy was ready to beat Jade's face in."

"Thanks for the reminder," Jade said, rubbing his arm. He glanced at the path the man had pointed to. It led past crumbling stone houses. Villagers bustled about, hauling baskets of vegetables or herding scrawny chickens. The air was clean, with no hint of car exhaust or city noise. Just birds, wind, and the occasional bleat of a goat. "Yuzon, you're the smart one. What's your take?"

Yuzon stood, brushing dirt off his hands. "The details are too consistent for a prank. The architecture, the clothing, the tools, they're pre-industrial, maybe tenth century. The language is weird, too. He spoke English, but with an accent I can't place. And that sign…" He pointed to a wooden board above a nearby building, its carved letters jagged and unfamiliar. "It's not Latin or Germanic."

"Great, so we're in a history nerd's fever dream," Nathaniel groaned. "What do we do? Run? Hide? Find a wizard to zap us back home?"

"Let's just play along for now," Jade said. "If we're in some weird setup, we'll figure it out by keeping our heads down. We go to the fields, do whatever they want, and look for clues. Maybe there's a way out."

"Or food," Mataranas added, his stomach rumbling loud enough to startle a passing cat. "I'm starving."

Numerius clapped Mataranas on the back, nearly knocking him over. "That's the spirit! Work the fields, score some medieval grub. Maybe they've got ale."

"Focus, Num," Jade said, but he couldn't help a small grin. "Let's move before Angry Dad comes back with a bigger stick."

The group shuffled down the path, their boots squelching in the mud. The village opened into a patchwork of fields, golden wheat swaying under a gray sky. Villagers worked in clusters, swinging sickles or piling grain into carts. A wiry man in a patched cloak, the overseer, probably…stood on a wooden platform, barking orders. His eyes locked onto the group as they approached.

"You lot!" he shouted, hopping down and striding over. "About time! Grab those tools and get to work. The harvest won't wait for your lazy bones."

He pointed to a pile of rusty sickles and pitchforks leaning against a cart. Jade hesitated, then grabbed a sickle, its handle rough against his palm. The others followed, Nathaniel muttering under his breath about "manual labor violations" while Numerius hefted a pitchfork like it was a battle axe.

"This is ridiculous," Nathaniel said, poking at the wheat with his sickle like it was a dead bug. "I'm a business major, not a farmer. I don't even know what I'm doing!"

"Cut the stalks at the base," Yuzon said, already slicing through wheat with precise, almost surgical movements. "Like this. It's simple physics, angle the blade, use your weight."

"Easy for you to say," Nathaniel grumbled, his first swing missing the wheat entirely and nearly clipping his own foot. "Ow! This thing's a lawsuit waiting to happen."

Numerius, meanwhile, was treating the harvest like a combat mission, swinging his pitchfork with wild enthusiasm. "Take that, wheat!" he bellowed, sending stalks flying in all directions. A nearby villager, an old woman with a face like a dried apple, shot him a glare.

"Careful, you oaf!" she snapped. "You're ruining the crop!"

"Sorry, mam!" Numerius called, not slowing down. "Just getting into the zone!"

Jade tried to focus, mimicking Yuzon's technique, but his mind was racing. The sickle felt heavy, the work exhausting in a way he never felt before. His arms ached after ten minutes, and sweat stung his eyes. This wasn't VR. VR didn't make your muscles scream or your boots fill with mud. He glanced at Mataranas, who was methodically gathering cut wheat into bundles, his massive frame making the task look easy.

"How you holding up, Mat?" Jade asked.

Mataranas shrugged, wiping his brow. "It's like lifting weights, but with plants. I'm good."

"Lucky you," Nathaniel said, tossing a handful of wheat into a cart and missing half of it. "I'm gonna need a chiropractor after this."

They worked for hours, the sun creeping higher, turning the fields into a golden haze. The overseer barked orders, occasionally swatting at slackers with a switch. Jade's group drew plenty of his attention, mostly because Numerius kept "accidentally" knocking over piles of wheat. By noon, they were sweaty, sore, and starving, their tunics sticking to their skin.

"Break time!" the overseer finally shouted, pointing to a shady tree where villagers were passing around bread and water. The group collapsed under the tree, groaning as they sat on the grass.

"This is torture," Nathaniel said, tearing into a chunk of coarse bread. It tasted like cardboard, but he was too hungry to care. "I'm not built for this. Where's my energy drink? My phone? My life?"

"Quit whining," Numerius said, chugging water from a clay jug. He burped loudly, earning another glare from the old woman nearby. "This is kinda fun. Like camping, but with more dirt."

"Camping?" Nathaniel's voice rose. "This is kidnapping! We need to escape, find civilization, call someone!"

"And go where?" Yuzon asked, nibbling his bread. "We don't know where we are. No roads, no signs, no tech. We need more information."

Jade nodded, his strategist brain kicking in. "Yuzon's right. We stick together, gather info. Maybe this is a set up, or some experiment, but we won't figure it out by panicking."

"Speak for yourself," Nathaniel muttered, but he leaned back, chewing sullenly.

The break was short, and soon they were back in the fields, hacking at wheat under the overseer's watchful eye. Jade was starting to get the hang of it when a scream cut through the air. He spun around, sickle raised, to see villagers pointing toward the horizon. A plume of dust rose in the distance, accompanied by the thunder of hooves.

"Bandits!" a villager yelled, dropping his basket of grain. "To arms!"

The fields erupted into chaos. Villagers scattered, some grabbing pitchforks or crude clubs, others sprinting for the village. The overseer's shouts cracked with panic, barely audible over the screams. Jade's heart slammed against his ribs as he scanned the horizon. A dozen riders charged toward them, dust billowing behind their mismatched armor. Swords, spears, and axes gleamed in the sunlight, and the thunder of hooves felt like it was shaking the ground under his feet.

"Oh, crap," Nathaniel whimpered, clutching his sickle so tightly his knuckles turned white. "We're dead. We're so dead."

"Stay calm," Jade said, his voice wobbling. His hands shook as he gripped his rusty dagger, its weight foreign and useless compared to the plastic heft of a game controller. "We've… we've fought bandits before. In games. Kind of."

"Games?!" Nathaniel's eyes bulged, his voice hitting a pitch. "Those are real swords, Jade! I'm not respawning if I get stabbed!"

"Quit whining and grab something!" Numerius snapped, but his usual bravado sounded forced. He fumbled with his pitchfork, nearly dropping it as he spun it awkwardly, like a kid trying to twirl a baton. "We… we got this. Right?"

Mataranas hoisted his splintery plank-shield, "I'll… try to block," he mumbled, his face pale. "Don't let them get close."

Yuzon, his eyes darting between the riders, pointed to a low stone wall nearby. "There," he said, his voice tight but steady. "It's cover. We can… hide? Or something?"

Jade nodded, his throat dry. "Good enough… Move!"

They stumbled to the wall, tripping over roots and each other in their panic. Jade's boots slipped in the mud, and Nathaniel yelped as he banged his shin on a rock. The villagers were a mess, some swung tools wildly, others fled, leaving baskets of grain overturned. Jade crouched behind the wall, his dagger feeling like a toy against the scarred, grinning bandits now close enough to see their crooked teeth and sweat-streaked faces. One swung a rusty sword at a fleeing villager, who crumpled with a scream that made Jade's stomach lurch.

"We need a plan," Jade whispered, his voice barely audible over his pounding heart. "Mataranas, uh, stand in front. Numerius, swing at anything close. Yuzon and I… we'll try something. Nathaniel, just… stay down."

"Stay down?" Nathaniel hissed, clutching his sickle like it might bite him. "That's your plan? I'm not a soldier, I'm a business major!"

The first bandit reached the wall, his horse rearing as he swung a club. Mataranas raised his plank with a grunt, the wood shuddering under the blow. Splinters flew, and he staggered, barely keeping his footing. "This… this isn't like football," he gasped, his arms trembling.

Numerius lunged, jabbing his pitchfork at the rider's leg but missing wildly, the tines scraping the horse's flank instead. The animal squealed, and the bandit tumbled off, cursing as he hit the dirt. "Got one!" Numerius shouted, but his voice cracked, and he looked as surprised as anyone.

Jade's mind screamed at him to run, but his legs moved on instinct. He darted out, slashing at the fallen bandit's arm with his dagger. The blade barely nicked the man's leather sleeve, but it was enough to make him howl and drop his club. Yuzon, moving stiffly like he was solving a puzzle, grabbed the club and swung it awkwardly at the bandit's head. It connected with a dull thunk, and the man slumped, out cold.

"Dude!" Jade panted, his hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped his dagger. "How'd you do that?"

"Lucky swing," Yuzon muttered, his face gray. He clutched the club like it was burning his hands. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Nathaniel, still crouched, swung his sickle at a second rider's horse, missing by a foot and almost hitting Jade. "Back off!" he shrieked, his voice more desperate than threatening. "I'm armed! Sort of!"

"You're gonna kill me!" Jade yelped, ducking as Nathaniel flailed again.

Numerius, trying to channel his inner warrior, thrust his pitchfork at another bandit, but the rider parried with a sword, the clang making Numerius stumble back. "Okay, this is harder than it looks," he admitted, his grin wobbling.

The fight was a disaster, pure panic and flailing limbs. Mataranas held his ground, barely, his plank taking hit after hit until it was more splinters than shield. Numerius swung his pitchfork like he was swatting flies, missing half his shots but scaring a horse into bolting. Yuzon's precise gamer instincts helped him land another clumsy club hit, while Jade's frantic dagger slashes kept bandits at bay, mostly by accident. Nathaniel's contribution was tripping a charging bandit by flinging his sickle in a panic, the handle smacking the man's knee. Mataranas, seizing the moment, stomped forward and shoved the bandit into the mud, knocking the wind out of him.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably two minutes, the remaining bandits turned and fled, their horses kicking up dust as they vanished over the hill. The villagers cheered, some of the local militia slapping the group's shoulders, others staring like they'd seen a miracle. Jade's crew stood gasping, bruised, and coated in sweat and dirt, their "weapons" shaking in their hands.

"We… didn't die," Jade wheezed, his legs wobbling like jelly. His dagger had a nick in it, and his arm ached like he'd been lifting weights for hours.

"Barely," Nathaniel groaned, clutching his elbow where he'd banged it on the wall. "I think I pulled every muscle in my body. And my soul."

Numerius wiped sweat from his brow, his pitchfork bent at an odd angle. "That was… intense," he said, his usual swagger replaced by a shaky laugh. "I thought I was gonna pee myself."

Mataranas dropped his shattered plank, his face blank with exhaustion. "I think farming Is for me," he muttered. "Not… this."

Yuzon, still gripping his club, stared at the fallen bandits. "Guys," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know where we are."

"What?" Jade turned, catching the strange edge in Yuzon's tone. "What do you mean?"

Yuzon pointed to a bandit's sword, its hilt carved with a familiar wolf-head emblem. "That's a Sturgian design. The village layout, the fields, the runic signs—it's all straight out of Calradia." He looked up, his eyes wide with realization. "We're in Bannerlord."

The group stared, the words hitting like a brick. Nathaniel let out a nervous laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

Yuzon shook his head, his face pale but certain. "I'm not."

More Chapters