Random stories

Once more I watch the sun set upon the narrow cobblestone streets from atop my platform, my duty done, my eternal sentry resumed. My home secure again.

My story began 76 years ago, although I suppose some might say that it ended. When I was a young man of flesh, blood, and a stout heart I first arrived here on the plains of stone. I was one of a group 7 men that had been gathered from the kings army to deal a witch that had been harassing the local Sheppards.

It had taken us months of scouring the country chasing what seemed like every rumor or whisper we heard in every Tavren and Inn. All leading to the fertile plans in the south country, it was known only as the plains of plenty when i was a boy, it would seem that the witch, had a particular fixation upon the monster Medusa from the mythology of the Greeks. She had created a potion that would turn any living thing, plant or person into stone if the liquid touched it. She carried around viles strapped upon her person and would hurl them upon her foe.

Our party had been careful to keep our distance as we pursued her through the plains, we lost several pack animals and horses to the potion, and left a trail of stone grass, trees and and anything else unfortunate enough to be caught in her crossfire.

Finally we had her trapped on the banks of the Forma River. She had hidden herself away in small cave on the rivers edge, with only one way in, and out, and the terrible stone elixir to contend with upon any entrance. I valued the life's of my comrades perhaps more then my own, and volunteered to lead the assault in order to assure their safety.

I bundled myself in layers of fur and blankets, anything I could find in an attempt to keep the potion from reaching my body. As I burst into the cave a half dozen of these bottles were thrown at me all striking true, slowly I could feel myself loosing the ability to move as the elixir took affect. But I was able to draw my sword and run the witch through with my final breaths.

Much time has passed since then. My fellowship refusing to leave me in that dark cave brought my stone body up to the rivers edge, placing it the center of their camp, my sword still drawn, my body still coverd in the rags I attempted to protect myself in. The camp has grown into a small town since that day, Stonesedge is my home now, and I'm happy here.

For 76 years I watched as the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of my friends called this place their home. I felt the sun upon my face and the rain upon my head as I stood watch over my town. I watched as the built homes, shops and schools, and for the first time in 76 years, I walked.....

Stonesedge had as terrible a day as I could remember, raiders from the north sailed down the Forma River and began attacking my town. A few of the young men had tried to resist only to be murdered in the very square in which I sit. The raiders set up camp demanding that my people deliver every gold coin, silver chalice or anything else of value to them upon first light lest the town be torched.

The blood from the slain sons of Stonesedge had slowly trickled towards my feet as the night fell. As I anguished at there deaths and worried for the future of my home I began to feel.... loose. With a groan deeper then any I had gave out when I was flesh I took a step, then another.

Mobile and yet still stone I was able to lumber, as though some sort of golem that had no business existing upon this earth. But I had only goal upon my mind, protecting Stonesedge.

It seems that being stone has some advantages, as I approached the raiders camp on the edge of town I was greated with a couple of bolts in the dark that seemed to glance right off my chest, the carnage began as I reached the picket line however. My sword, stone now could not cut, only bludgeon, so I did. The screams of my victims woke the rest of their party and they all came running weapons in hand.

A few were brave enough to attack me with their axes and swords, only to have every blow stop dead in its tracks, the shafts of there weapons reverberating in their hands, I was able to clumsy swing my club of a sword fast enough to catch a few, but that's all it took. The raiders with fear in their hearts decided that fleeing the stone man that could not be harmed seemed a better decision then waiting for death.

I step atop my perch agsin, as the sun begins to rise, resuming my watch once more over this place that has become my home.

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Submitted by Patient-Oven-7956 on Mon, Jun 19, 2023 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

You were once an adventurer but when was turned to stone. Your party tried to save you but it was too late, so they place you in the center of a town they founded, now years later an army marches onto that town and with every once of willpower you try to move…and with groan you take a step.