Dragonhammer: Volume I by Conner McCall Page A

families.  Our freedom.  All at stake.”  He pauses.  The room is deathly silent.  “Terrace, this thriving city, must stand.  There is no other option.  Tygnar will be upon us within a matter of days or hours.  You are the wall that will keep them out.
    “Not all of you are soldiers, I know.  Some of you have done your time before.  The time has come once again to raise the sword against our enemy to protect our wives and homes!  Not all of you will survive.  But may you die knowing you die for the freedom of your brethren, wives, and children.  Thus in death or in life, you will be victorious.”  He glances around the room.
    “Weapons and armor are available in the armories.  One to the left and one to the right.  All men of Virfith, to the right,” he points to our right, “and all men of Terrace to the left.”  He gestures appropriately.  “Be quick; we need to get everyone suited.  Disperse.”
    With that, the men split into two groups and make their way down the appropriate halls.  It takes a bit of time to wait in the line, but once at the head, I see why. A guard studies my height and build and says, “You’ll be difficult to fit.”  Another guard is saying something similar to my father.
    The chainmail shirt fits.  It’s not as loose as it’s supposed to be, but it works.  Then he helps me slip on a leather jerkin banded with strips of iron.  Simple shoulder guards sit snugly on my shoulders.  If anything, I only find the helmet slightly annoying.  It restricts my hearing and vision, and feels funny.
    Then the guard takes me to a different part of the armory, where racks of weapons line the room.  “Favorite weapon?” he says.
    I shake my head.
    “Well, which one do you have the most experience with?”  I stare blankly into the room, shrugging slightly.  “Be quick,” he says, escorting me to a particular rack.  “A sword will do.”  I’m about to grab a random pick when something else catches my eye.  It’s a dull thing in the back, but I am drawn to it.
    “This is it,” I say.
    “A warhammer?” questions the guard.
    “All my life, I’ve been swinging a hammer.  The only difference is the size.  And instead of an anvil, I’m swinging at a…”  My voice fades.
    He nods.  “Give it a try before you take it-”
    I’ve already picked it up and am testing it out.  The head is a big simple iron bar, with a blunt end and a spike end.  I heft it and say, “This is it.”
    The guard nods, eyeing my left hand where my two fingers are missing.  “Okay.”
    Nathaniel comes in and says, “Whoa that thing’s a beast.”
    “It’s the one I’m going to use,” I say coldly.
    Nathaniel looks among the remaining hammers and comes out with one similar to mine, but with a shorter handle and a smaller head.  “Not as big,” he says, “But I’m not as strong as you.”
    “It’s okay.  Don’t try to lift more than you can.”
    We join my father, who was waiting just outside the armory.  He only needed armor, as he possesses his own claymore.  He looks approvingly at my choice of weaponry.  When he sees that Nathaniel has the same thing, he raises an eyebrow.
    “It’s alright, father,” he says.  “I can use it.”
    Father’s expression softens, but he doesn’t say a word.
    Leon finds us and says simply, “I never thought I’d find myself here.  I’m meant to butcher cows, not…”  He leaves his statement unfinished, looking grimly at his longsword.
    Percival holds a sword and circular shield, which hangs loosely from his left hand.  He has sheathed his sword.  His father holds similar items.
    Percival eyes my hammer.  “Interesting choice,” he says.
    “I like it,” interjects James, who is also carrying a sword and shield.  “It’s just a little heavy for me.”  For the first time James has nothing more to say.
    Jericho appears only a moment later.  He’s still bandaged around the head, but carries a shield and