The Whore's son

[Alpha]

"In wartime we identify ourselves with the nation, and its interests are the interests of our primal selves."

My first memory... Rain, yes I remember the rain as it fell upon my face, the cold water running down my cheeks, it felt as though for those brief seconds my impurity was being washed away and I was whole.

Then came the searing heat as I was knocked down, the leather clad hand of an elf knocked me to the floor, the pain somewhat nulled by the numbness the cold weather brought. Wet mud clung to my body as I struggled back to my feet only to have my hands swept from underneath me and fall again. My ears rang with the taunts and laughter of childish voices each one felt like a fresh cut.

My feet found their way at last and I was able to stand, wavering back and forth momentarily as my head corrected itself. I remember that hand on my shoulder and the sudden white hot rage that errupted from me, and with a clenched fist I turned and swung sending the blurr of a being sprawling from me. It is a moment I have always hated myself for, for when my vision returned to me and the viel of red had lifted I saw it was not my assailant I had struck, but that of a female, a young girl no less no older than I must have been. I can still hear her sobs as she held her face... And I ran.

Assailed by a storm of sticks and rock I ran, ducked and slipped away from the crowd through the mud and the trees their chants ringing in my ears and tears stinging my eyes.

"Whore's son"

 

[Alpha]

This will be an ongoing thing as I find myself bored and unable to do much

 

[Axex]

Sounds good thus far, be bored more often, I love reading these.

 

[Alpha]

"In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies."​

Back then the only solace I found was in the comfort of the one I called mother, every evening I returned to her in a camp of soldiers. Sometimes I came back and found her asleep, other times I would find her quietly crying but mostly there would be another man in the tent with her, I knew I wasn't aloud inside while she had her male visitors, she didn't like me seeing her that way so once again I took comfort in the storm and the cold rain that cooled my skin.​

I sat cross legged in the mud outside mother's tent for what seemed the entire day, I watched as the men walked about the water hitting their armour giving off a metalic sound, and every time they glanced in my direction their eyes dragged across me like a dull blade. It chilled and alienated me but I had grown acoustom to it and at least there they would not strike me.​

When the time came that the man exited mother's tent I watched him seperated the cloth flaps and step through into the clearing rain, I cannot imagine what he thought when he looked upon the child sat outside but I must have seemed disgusting to him as he flashed me a crooked smile and spat at my face and I could do nothing but lower my head and avert my eyes from his. It was strange and hard for me to explain but this man carried with him a foul stench, not physically so it assaulted my nose but his being alone gave me a grotesque feeling in my stomach, raising my head everso slightly I caught a glimpse of his heels as he walked away like nothing had even happened.​

I felt out of breathe as I got up, the memory of my head spinning as a torrent of emotions and questions spun in my mind. My heart sank as I entered the tent to find mother asleep, I knew I would not be able to find comfort in her now, and I would never be so heartless as to wake her for I wanted her to at least find some peace in her rest. So quietly I crept to the corner of the tent, stripped and laid down under a blanket of cotton to sleep, but unlike my mother my rest brought about little peace.​

 

[Alpha]

"Continuous effort - not strength or intelligence - is the key to unlocking our potential."

Loyalty, respect and resolve.

These three words never left you alone or aloud you a moments peace within the barracks. The barracks, that was my next clear memory and it has cut its way deeply into my sub-concious, each morning either you got up of your own accord or you were greeted to a bucket of cold latrine water. I found myself not needing the amount of sleep that the others seemed to get, there fore I often observed men recieve the rude awakening on a number of occasions, it also gave me time to myself in which I found a quiet corner in order to record events or to blindly swing a blade around in vien trying to teach myself the way of the sword.

The frosted mornings were filled with the groans of struggling recruits marching back and forth, orders barked at them from the drill sergants, their breath as thick as fog infront of their faces as the string of words flowed out. Each time a man fell he was dragged back to his feet and put to the head of the colum, meaning if he fell again he would be trampled under foot by the legion of men following.

It was a strict and harsh training regiem and each evening role call we found ourselves with new recruits, and without fail we also found ourselves with one or two deserters of the ranks, it had almost become a mandatory thing.

The evenings found a new lease on the situation, with men gathered round roaring fires laughing and in merriment, tankards full of ale and songs filling the night sky. I have never really cared for such things and had no "friends" in the barracks to speak of, so each night I slipped away from the men in flail my sword about fruitlessly.

This cycle endured for weeks on end, each day the same and every hour utterly predictable, by the end of the year there remained only a handful of recruits that had weathered the training from the start, and this is where my problems started in earnest.

 

[Alpha]

Taking a day's break as I go climbing

 

[Fitz]

This is Awesome!!

MOOOOORRRRREEEEEE

 

[Alpha]

"We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival."

There were four of us as I recall, each with a years worth of scars both mental and physical built up, the months or strain upon our bodies had left us hardy and grizzled, our expressions cold or otherwise devoid of emotion and when given an order, no matter how small or pointless, we followed it to the letter within time peaked to our capabilities. The sergants said we had surpassed all hopes and become the perfect soliders, only live combat was left in our trail by fire then we would truly show the metal of the armed forces, but with our time in the camp quickly edging towards departure the commanding officers wanted to use us to our fullest and so set about assigning newer recruits under us each.

This is when I met a truly interesting being.

It was an ordinary morning, no different from any other by our standards, the ground was washed in a fresh frost keeping the dirt solid and rock like and the crisp air provided a perfect morning drill atmosphere. We four were up at least two hours before our fresh "stock" of recruits, systematically we devised the training regiem and order in which to execute it and how it would test each person. As we headed to our corrisponding barrack's I saw a silhouetted figure off along the edge of the grounds, an area I knew well from my earlier days of single practice so I took a detour from my path and silently made my way over. I'm never quite sure what I saw because for a few flash seconds I beheld what appeared to be a younger more niave looking me, the main oddity being whoever this was, was using the area in the exact same way I had, each time I watched that blade of thiers sing through the bleakness of the morning air I felt a twinge of nostalgia coarse over me. When I called out to them and strode forwards the trainer in the rain startled and scampered off with a ghost like grace, leaving me with only a brief flash of amber eyes which seemed to almost glow in the sputtering torchlight.

I had to take a moment to reflect on this, each second feeling long and sluggish until I snapped back into reality and made back towards my assigned barracks, still somewhat lost in thought.

 

[Alpha]

"If you are going through hell, keep going."

Through practice and development I had become the very thing that we as recruits hated and feared, those under us seemed nothing more than childish clay waiting to be melded or broken. The rains had come to replace the cold now and each shower put a new test and strain on my trainees, one by one I watched them fall into the mud, one by one I saw them replaced. Every time I stood them to attention their scared expressions seared into my eyes, each face distorted with anger and loathing but too fearful of retaliation to stand up to me, in this though I came to realize I was not there to form life long friendships but to brace them in the hardships to come and give them at least a little fighting chance.

Through it all though one recruit began to shine out amongst the rest, an eleven lass not unlike any other that had passed our ranks of late, short with fair skin and an almost mane like crown of flowing hair, black as coal that a man could easily lose himself to.

What drew my attention was the form she dedicated herself to and the cumbersome way she wielded her sword, all in all not a stroke off a younger me. So I took to pushing her forwards, often punishing her smallest mistake with the more repulsive work based tasks so much so that when our gazes crosses her sight shot daggers at me.

I was doing my job, and for it she was shaping into a fine swords-woman.
Every bit she hated me was a step in the right direction I thought, I believed it would keep a soldiers mind sharp and alert if they expected punishment from her opponent and leader.
Begrudgingly it turns out I was only digging my own grave as tensions between my recruits grew to a surprising level faster than I anticipated, each day they made a decreasing amount of eye contact with me and I felt as though a space was growing between my and my squad. The other leaders had formed bonds with their men, often going out after dark for merry-ments and drinking where as I found myself returning more often to my former practice field and sitting cross legged until sunrise.



One such day I lost my composure and fell into a disturbed sleep in my meditation spot, only to be awoken come the morn by the cold embrace of sharp iron pressed to my throat...

 

[Alpha]

"It's scary how easy it was for me to kill you"

Like a cat of prey she loomed over me, her breath ragged and forced, the blade against my throat was quivering almost uncontrollably and the gentleness in her eyes had been replaced with a fire that can only be described as hellish. I would have inquired as to what she was doing but I saw the tell tale twisting in her wrist showing she was moments away from slitting my neck, it was all I could do to roll backwards clumsily as my legs were still crossed, her blade singing after me through the air as she wailed like a bashee at me.

As soon as I had my legged untangled she was upon me again, I had no time to draw my blade so I defended myself with my vambraces parrying her brutish blows to the best of my abilities. Sparks flew as I was continuously pushed into stepping backwards over and over. (WIP)

 

[Fitz]

bout time! this is one of the first things I'v been excited to read in a good bit

 

[matyio]

good read, looking forward to more

 

[Kruziik]

I'm waiting on the moment Fitz says "I am your father"

Then I'll weep..

 

[matyio]

that would be... interesting, to say the least