September 5, in the year 670 by Kingdom reckoning. Morning
You move a bit further down the trail so as to be away from the battle site. You set up camp and everyone is in a dour mood for quite some time. Things brighten up, however, when Hamish manages to put an arrowhead under Alis as he's sitting down. Draymun cracks first and before long everyone is laughing, even Alis.
It's a quiet evening spent in leisure. It's easy to forget the darkness and desolation right outside the firelight when you fall into the routine of camp.
The night passes uneventfully but you grow more and more concerned about Tom.
In the morning, Tom has still not shown up.
After everyone has a good laugh at Hamish's antics, Thor and Alis resume their daily training. Thor is a harsh task master, putting Alis through a gruelling session, but he means well.
ReplyDeleteAfter the training, Thor and Alis spend some time talking, alone. "The treatment of the prisoner really bothered you didn't it?"
He hangs his head and nods. "I didn't think heroes treated people that way."
Delete"Not all heroes are paragons of virtue, unfortunately," Thor replied, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "There are times when virtue alone is not enough. Kring may have believed that his harsh treatment would garner honesty from such a foul creature."
Delete"Do not mistake my intent, I do not condone torture. I would not have treated the prisoner so harshly, and each man in his own way can determine how he chooses to treat others. Remember this lesson, and when you have grown powerful enough to stand against mighty foes, you can make those choices for yourself."
Khazad watches the interplay with Alis and has a chuckle with his friends. These moments remind Khazad of what he fights to protect. Seeing the training of Alis coming along is reassuring, soon he will be able to defend himself as well.
ReplyDeleteStaring into the embers of the fire on first watch Khazad has plenty of time to reflect on the days battle. His faith had always served to protect him, the surety of Torag's might and righteousness a shield against evil. But where was Torag's righteousness when Draymun fell. Where was his wisdom when they struck out against their enemies, perversions of nature, that claimed innocence and begged for mercy. The beast that these men had found in a dark hole seemed to have lost all control, killing an unarmed man who had surrendered, pratically begging to torture another. Khazad knew his blood pact had saved a life that day, and that was not his God's doing, it was his. Everything that had happened, it was not Torag's might or strength or wisdom, it was his own strength.
He knew that in the morning he would need to pray, but he was unsure that prayers to Torag would offer the same support. The only thing that still felt right was the prayers his father had taught him.
Kring spent the evening just outside of the fires direct light. He didn't feel his presence would be very welcomed around the fire. Kring feared the days events, where he truly showed himself, his lack of mercy for his enemies, his desire to see them put to an end, his need to end the confrontation, without any loose strings, alienated him. Now, with the evening dwindling into night, and Tom still unaccounted for, he began to realize that even if it cost him his trust among the group, he should have destroyed his enemy that day. Feeling sleep would fail him, he laid back, waiting to fall into his dark thoughts. Nightmares would haunt him this night, doubly so if Tom doesn't return before he drifts away.
ReplyDeleteWaking Kring for the start of the second watch, Khazad can see that he is deeply troubled. Giving him a moment to collect his thoughts and get his bearings, Khazad retreats to get two flagons of Ale from the wagon.
Delete"Your countenance appears troubled by the happenings of the day past. It is my sincerest hope that you realize your place among this group is one which is secure. No man amongst this group will ever challenge your actions more than I have this day gone. I do profess my shame at my actions. I sought our answers in the way I thought best, as I am sure you did as well. It is a humble gesture on my part, but please drink this ale with me and share some simple fare of bread, cheese and sausage." Khazad unwraps a cloth and sets out his food between the two, setting the drink before the hulking figure of Kring.
"Your actions this day, and all days past have served to protect the innocents of our group and show a loyalty and ferocity that is admirable. Please, tell me about your past, I would wish to know more about you."
As the camp settles for the evening and members begin to sleep, Draymun walks the outskirts of the illumination to commune with whatever nature has survived the perversion. He thinks to his friend, Tom, out there alone in the darkness and he smiles. Tom is strong and silent, a hunter amongst prey... a bear amongst cattle. He doesn't fear for his friend, but he does fear for the land in which he travels.
DeleteHe kneels and gathers some dirt in his palm, crumbling the chunks and sprinkling them between his fingers. This is not the way things should be. Those creatures were brothers no longer, they had lost their way. Faith to a corruptress is no faith at all.
Before standing, he places his finger in the loosened dirt and draws a small shape before standing and nodding to himself. He looks back into the darkness and sees Kring and Khazad sitting together, and decides to head their way.
/Your actions this day.../
He halts his progress for a moment as Khazad finishes his words and offers his inquiries to the fierce warrior. He nods and smiles inwardly before proceeding on. He gives a gruff and quiet cough as he approaches, to warn of his coming, and sits on the other side of Kring.
"Do not mind me, friends... I simply wish to join in the company of good men. These lands are a blight, and I don't wish to be farther from those I trust my life in than I must." He looks straight at Kring as he speaks his words, hoping to provide some comfort with them.
((Adding this comment so people who are reading know what happened))
ReplyDeleteTom returns from following the Defiler, only to run into to 3 orcs, which kill him. May he rest in Peace.
Kring breaks off a hunk of the bread, takes a swallow of the ale, and reclines a little bit. Using the act of chewing as a way to ponder about how much he should tell these adventurers. Yes, he feels a closeness to them that he hasn't felt in, well, ever, but his past is still a mystery to them. All they know is that he was once a gladiator. He knows they have assumed he was very good at his profession, making it to the ripe old age of 23... Very old for a gladiator. Most don't ever make it out of their teens. Especially a half orc. Not known for their cunning in the arena, but more for their brutish, headlong approach to fighting. This usually means a quick end. Knowing that the events of the coming days could very well mean the end for them all anyway, now was as good a time as any to shed some light on the mighty gladiator, Kring, or as he was known in the ring, Bloodlegion.
ReplyDelete"You know, if you had asked me earlier, I would have made something up, but I have nothing left to hide. We may all end up like boils back there by the end of the week anyway, what with birdman still out there. Hell, he's probably already back with the others sharing a meal around a fire, just like we are now. For the record, our word or not, he should never have walked out of here. Never. Mark my words, we will all regret that decision. I just hope we all live to know the outcome. Anyway. So I'm a half orc, you know what that means. My mom was raped by an Orc. Her husband killed in front of her, after the act of course. You may ask, how do you know this... Well, I was told many times by my mother. She despised me. Blamed me for everything wrong in her life. Honestly, as far as I can tell, she was right. When I was five a man came looking for her husband. She told him of his death years ago, and then realizing there wasn't a man in the house, raped my mother. I sat in the other room, not out of fear, but instead was happy she was getting what she deserved for those years of mistreating me. When he was done, he looked over his shoulder. There I was. A five year old half orc. Now, at five I was almost his size, we grow quick. Pitchfork in hand I drove it deep into his back, clean through him, and into her. I sat there, they didn't suffer long, a pity really. I remember watching the pooling blood on the bed. Heh, I enjoyed watching the blood."
Delete"I thought I was a man. I thought I was ready to make it on my own. I had a knife, what food and coins I could scrounge from the house and the deadman. I left. Three days later I sat in a cell, beaten within inches of my life, everything I owned, gone. Everyone I had ever known, gone. I was caught stealing bread."
DeleteKring let out a chuckle. "Bread. I owe all of this to that damned loaf of bread."
Looking down to the bread in his hand, he crushes what was left and throws it into the fire.
Delete"You see, I was looked at as something out of the ordinary. Yes, people had seen half orcs before, but most of them were already full grown and out in the wild, or in taverns in between adventures. Not in my little village, I was an oddity. The local law, if you can call them that, sold me to a wealthy man who owned several gladiators that would fight in bigger cities. I was five. From that day forward, all I have known is pain. I've broken almost every bone in my body, had more bruises and cuts than I can count. Scars on scars in some places. I wasn't very good at first. I watched others, learned things here and there, but eventually it was kill or be killed for me. I killed. When I would fight, not unlike earlier today, I was brutal, unrelenting. A true killer. I gave into my rage. This angered my masters, and the masters of others. They were there for a show, I would give them a bloodbath. For years I fought bigger, tougher, more trained men and beasts than myself. I had built up quite a reputation. Finally, other gladiators began telling me to watch myself. Master was sick of me not listening, not fighting the way they wanted me too. I was making them too much money to have me killed in the ring, but they were done with me. "
"There is only one way out for a gladiator. You live to fight, and fight to live. There is only the fight, or death. It had been deemed my time to die. So, without another thought, I used some of my prestige to get to the outer walls of my masters villa, and I ran. I killed a few men as soon as I could, covered myself up, I was easily recognizable, and I ran. I had been traveling out of sight, living off of the land for some time when I ran into a tough spot. Game was short, I was week, and I saw the cave you found me in. I heard something inside, and out of blind hunger I went in. I didn't think about booby traps. One wrong step and I sat at the bottom of that pit for days without food or water before Tom and the others found me. If not for them, I would still be down there, long rotten by now."
DeleteTaking another drink to wet his parched mouth, Kring tosses the mug to the ground. "Thanks for the food and drink now you know the history of Kring, your ferocious beast. I don't ask for your pity, I won't have it, but I think my actions with this group merit your respect. Now listen, turn me in, kill me in my sleep, I really don't care. I'm done running. I'm here to do what I can with the time I have left. I know I will be recognized, so understand that boils will not be the last man you are probably going to be forced to watch me kill. I respect you and your friends, but know I will stop at nothing to keep myself and you all safe from here on out. I'm done fighting for nothing. Living for nothing. I am kring, its time to make a new name for myself."
DeleteNot waiting for a response, Kring stands up, hefting the axe that had been resting on the log next to him, and starts to walk away, "it's my turn for watch."with that he walks off.
Having listened to the Half-Orcs tale Khazad felt he might know him better. Watching the dour barbarian walk over to the edge of camp it is clear that he is as lost for purpose and meaning in his life, as Khazad is in his. Glancing across the fire at Draymun, he whispers, "Our mighty friend has weathered much like the stone and yet endured. It is said that those rocks which are weathered the most create the most fertile soil. Perhaps our friend is like this rock, beaten upon, weathered and yet improved for it. Taking up Krings flagon and placing it with the other odds and ends for Alis to clean, he pours a fresh one for Draymun and himself. "Do you know the story of the Stala's? It is an old tale, one which has seen more years than my families ancestors, but I think it appropriate. In nature, water erodes the stone over time, cutting into it, building into channels that become raging rivers and floodplains.... In the caves though water carries the stone and deposits it. Over the lifetimes of the dwarves we often see this as I'm sure you know. A single drop becomes the source of a mighty construction of stone. In the deep parts of the earth it is said that a single drop can form a Stala large enough to be made into a castle. My point... If we stand against the water we will be worn down and destroyed, but if we allow the water to be water, well it can strengthen the stone."
ReplyDelete