Wyatt grinned under his heavy steel-plated armor. He clenched the long Bastard sword he had taken off of a fallen Hussite in his early days, which he grew fond of as the time passed. His name wasn't really Wyatt-it was moreso like the conglomeration of a rank and a nickname, earned from the respect of his Captain.
The thin line of the Grand Reaver Army grew ever-thicker and more visible, where Wyatt and the other men aside him could swear they were seeing their faces, of the Reavers. "HOLDFAST, MEN!" Bellowed the Captain, an orc aged 70 years. Wyatt was one of the first to brace themselves, as the Reavers descended the last hill closest to the knights in the formation of a messy, living metal wall.
The Reavers wore mostly featureless faces, with the exception of fangs similar to a wolf or some other beast of the woods. Reavers did not eat on human meat-but they were more than willing to bite, kick, and gore the flesh of their opponents. They made horrible sounds, similar to screaming with water in your lungs-which made them all the more cursed.
As Wyatt's mind whirled about thinking of all to happen, all that has happened. Now was the moment. Now, was the time of calling, the exact reason why he signed up for this in the first place.
The advancing party of Reavers was heading straight for the area of men by Wyatt, which made them nervously cheer for the oncoming battle.
Wyatt and the other knights beside him held their shields high and began beating their swords along the shields.
The Reavers prepared their ranged arms and blades alike, preparing to make a spearheaded charge through the knights.
Wyatt clenched every muscle in his body, as his eyes narrowed on a Reaver swinging it's battleaxe, going straight for his head-
Wyatt found himself falling down some kind of tunnel, his head moving frantically from side to side, as he clawed uselessly on the borders of whatever tunnel he was rapidly descending. There wasn't much sound, save for Wyatt's screaming, out of confusion and fear. He was just beginning battle, and now he was doomed to dying from a height? Useless, Useless, he thought. Completely Useless.
After what felt like a lifetime, Wyatt slammed into the "bottom" of whatever tunnel this was, backfirst, grimacing.
"God save me..." Wyatt muttered, as his sword and shield fell around him, clattering on what he detected to be a wooden floor.
Wyatt looked up, and only got a glimpse of some sort of...portal, that must've been the tunnel he fell down.
Wyatt turned around, seeing a pairing of a youthful woman (or, at least he saw a woman, which was really a teenage girl, however his time spent in the past has altered that view) and a younger boy, who was standing behind the woman, in the hallway of what seemed to be this Woman's room. It was adorned with such foreign drawings, with bright lights of the sort scrabbled all over. They were written in characters similar to what Wyatt new as his language, except for a few letters he couldn't dare attempt to spell them out.
He picked up his sword and shield, and adjusted his helm.
"Who art thou I see before thyself?!" Wyatt carefully posed into a fighting stance, preparing for whatever may be brought upon him.
The Boy peered around the Woman's pantaloons, which the knight had noticed. Had he been sent elsewhere? Another land, or realm, maybe? Where women wore pantaloons, and did that mean men wore skirts, and fine dresses? Why was he here?
The Woman, perhaps out of fear or some other cause, raised her hands before Wyatt, which he took as...surrender? Did nobody fight around here?
"Who art thou?! I see with my two eyes your pledge of...allegiance, how pitiful. But that does not keep you from telling me who art thou. Tell me."
The Woman took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
"I'm Jane. He-the woman gestured at the boy peering from behind her blue pantaloons-Is Eric."
"You hath no bonds to any other wretched kings, Jane?"
Wyatt's sword steadied in his hands, but he was still unsure of whether to be defensive against these possible friends.
"N-No. The last opposing King was defeated by the Arcovan Confederacy."
"Confederachy? You mean a Duch defeated a royal Ist it not heretical to do so, ist it not traitorous?"
Jane crossed her arms, despite the Sword pointed dead on at where her heart would be. Surely, Wyatt would kill her if she tried anything funny-but she couldn't cower from him, either.
"ConfederACY. Happened a millenia ago. And obviously...you've yet to learn."
Wyatt lowered his sword, the shock now fading away, as the realization burned in him.
"You are saying, that i hath been sent one grand years into...the time after thyself?"
Jane smirked, the boy now having retreated to his room, wherever it was.
"Poor you. Everything you know...gone." Jane shook her head somberly, getting a good grasp on how Wyatt is handling the situation.
"Jane. There must be a quest. Is there still the chivalry and proper...kind of people in this time?"
Jane raised an eyebrow, prior to turning her head back behind her as she seemed to be observing something to do with her brother. "You mean are there still knights and stuff like that?"
Wyatt nodded his head, looking around the room for some kind of exit.
"Yes. Just because your precious kingdoms and royalties have fallen, doesn't mean the world changes. C'mon, we'll go-"
As soon as Jane turned around-
Wyatt was out the window, a knight-sized hole leading to the city across the hills.
"Ah shit. Eric! Get your shoes, we're going on a manhunt!"
Idea i have had for a while-Sci Fi and Fantasy put together-but instead, a Knight has travelled to the "Science Fiction" future, with the same races but different politics of the world he used to know.
If any of you are asking where the parents of Jane and Eric are-they live in a orphanage, and future works will reveal what the Scepter War was about, but that's basically the backdrop for everything unknown. (for now)
It's neat. Is this a linear story (I assume so) or a storygame? Regardless, what you have here progressed pretty well, I didn't feel like it dragged, which can be an issue when trying to write fantasy or sci-fi, let alone a combination.
I don't think I ought to proofread, and Green already pointed out the main issues, but I will add this:
similar to what Wyatt new as his language
Instead of new, you want to use knew.
This type of mistake has a word for it (where the mistake is made because the words sound the same), but I don't remember what it is called, lol. Anyway, the words do have different meanings. I point it out since knew/new, they're/their/there, etc can be hard to recognise without outside prompting, alongside some other words (English is weird).
With that said, it is possible the mistake was something that just happened to slip by.
She said the confederacy was made 1000 years ago, but that doesn't mean he has gone forward 1000 years. He could've gone forward 2000! I guess he could also have gone back in time...but let's not worry about that. This assumption of his is fine tho.
Other than that, my only question is how the girl expects to go on a manhunt for a knight. Granted, this is more me just wondering about what comes next, aha. Plenty of other mysteries I'm curious about too.
I don't know how much you've planned this out, but I will mention the standard warning of: keep an eye out on the scope.
I can see how this type of story could spiral out of control, but as long as you have some idea of where you are going with your writing, you should be able to keep it under control (either by having an idea of the ending/middle, or by thinking about the themes or character arcs, or something else).
I wonder how much language would change in 1000 years.
Other than that, I dislike the way people talk in this past, with their 'art thou's and 'thyself's. Keeping it is fine tho, since it does help distinguish the speaker, I just think speaking mannerisms that are more subtle are better.
I just worry that it could get in the way of understanding what he is saying, or potentially undermining the seriousness of future scenes. Just being aware of this potential pitfall should help you avoid it tho.
Other than that, googling 'holdfast origin' gave me: HOLD FAST is a nautical term that has its origins from the Dutch word “houd vast” which translate to “Hold Tight” in regards to holding securely to ships ropes and rigging.
This is amusing, but I don't expect you to rewrite English for your story, lol.
Trying to be aware of some phrase origins does tie in with replacing 'fuck' or 'god save me' with phrases more intertwined with the setting. These things can exist in your setting, but it is always worth thinking if there is a more creative way to get the same feeling across that also expands the world. Cursing with 'nine hells' is a simple example that might help explain what I mean.
As I said, it's neat. Ironing out the mistakes would help improve the quality, but the ideas and pacing seem solid to me, so just writing more would also work just fine. Interested to see where you'll take this tho.
P.S. I spaced out the first two sections more, and didn't touch the last ones. Let me know which half is easier to read. I swear the spacing looks off to me both ways. >->