The Birth of a Knight (Closed)

Intern Rep! : 12 Location : The Living Room Couch

Blades flashed in the dim light of twilight, whistling through the air and bursting into an explosion of sparks whenever they clashed. The wielders seemed to almost be dancing with each other- weaving and ducking, feinting and parrying in what appeared to be a choreographed waltz with Death. In speed and skill, the two were evenly matched- outwitting the other's sword almost as quickly as they thought to swing it; but in terms of size and appearance, they were almost polar opposites: one a great, tall man who's face was largely obscured by a beard, and the other a young girl, barely into her teenage years, wearing an expression of the utmost concentration and determination (as well as a set of armor that was rather large on her).

Their dance continued until nightfall- neither side giving any ground to the other until the teenage girl mis-stepped and tripped on a rock. In an instant, the man was on top of her, holding his weapon at the base of her throat- his eyes filled with glee.

"Got you this time Allie." Came the man's jovial voice as he removed his sword and offered a hand to her. "Next time keep an eye on your--"

He was cut off by an exasperated sigh as the adolescent allowed herself to be helped to her feet and sheathed her blade angrily. "I know, Dad. Keep an eye on your surroundings and don't ever lose your footing." She glared at the stone she had tripped over, silently wishing curses of death upon the small piece of rock as she did so. "It was getting too dark though. How the hell was I supposed to see it?"

The man chuckled and ruffled the girl's (Allie, presumably) hair with one huge hand. "You've got to be prepared for it, is all. You don't necessarily have to see it, but you have to be ready for it in case if it is there. Even if you had memorized the battlefield before the battle, the world is a constantly changing place- altering it's appearance with anything ranging from breezes in the wind to great thunderstorms. You must prepare for every possibly outcome if you want to increase your chances of survival, Allie."

She snorted, crossing her arms and attempting to force a frown at her father. "I knew that already, Dad. You've already told me this-" she adopted a more fatherly tone to her young, feminine voice as she continued, "'Balance is key in battle' and blah, blah, blah."

Another short chuckle escaped the man's throat as he began to walk away, motioning for Allie to follow. "Not only in battle- but in all things. Granted, keeping your balance is generally a good idea in battle- unless you've discovered some way to fight laying down?" He glanced back at her, a knowing smile on his face. "I know I've taught you a lot- but I'm pretty sure I haven't taught you that."

Allie grinned herself, following after her father and shaking her head. "Nope- but I'm sure you could. And, if you can't, I'll figure it out on my own and then teach it to you!"

The two shared a short laugh as Allie's father turned to her and gave her a short hug. "And when that day comes, I will eat my own hands."

EXP: 613

Intern Rep! : 12 Location : The Living Room Couch

The Birth of a Knight

Alicia stood silently, bowing her head slightly and closing her eyes as she clasped her gauntleted hands together in reverence. The rest of the graveyard as deathly quiet, as it almost always was at this time of day. The evening sun had begun to dip under the horizon, slowly covering the world in darkness as twilight came to a close. After a short moment, she nodded slightly and opened her eyes, reaching into a small pouch around her waist and withdrawing several small items: a crest, a small vial of ash, candles and a small scroll.

"Happy birthday, Dad."

She knelt before a small headstone, leaning the small crest against the base of the headstone and scattering the ash before it, as was her tribe's tradition. Lighting the candles she brought with her, Alicia unfurled the scroll and cleared her throat, looking intrepidly at the grave for a moment.

"I'm not as good at writing, especially stuff like this, as I would hope to be. Apologies for it's tackiness."

Clearing her throat, Alicia began to read the parchment. "Dad, I miss you. It's been about four years now and the tribe is suffering without your guidance and support. We all miss you, especially me, but we realize that you will not be coming back at the same time. I have done my best to lead in your stead, to keep our home safe from those who would wish harm on it's people... your people." She let out a short, shuddering breath before continuing. "While we are strong, we face increasing problems from bandits and the surrounding tribes. People are less willing to listen to a young leader- especially a female one- and relations have gone poorly with most other chieftans. Our own people have been whispering about leaving this place, our home, for somewhere less hostile. Mare Maris, it seems, is the most popular idea."

"I myself am not here most of the time and I've had to give the position of chieftan to another so that I may provide for my people. Most of them attributed my resigning as an inability to lead as opposed to my want to provide more than just words for them. I've taken to signing contracts from traveling caravans and searching bounty boards, as well as scouring more of the inner city as a way to produce goods for bartering, but very few seem to appreciate what I'm doing..." Her voice cracked slightly as she finished, placing a corner of the dry parchment into one of the flames from a candle and allowing it to burn.

"I don't know, Dad... Have I been doing things right? Am I doing what's best for everyone, or am I just out for my own freedom? They are grateful for the bartering items, I know- but I feel like I'm little more than a work-mule for the tribe rather than the daughter of the once proud leader of it." Tears had begun to roll down her cheeks as she spoke, and she let them fall, unabashed.

"I miss you, dad."

EXP: 568 + 613 = 1181

Intern Rep! : 12 Location : The Living Room Couch

Birth of a Knight

The last of the brigands fell, blood spurting from a terrible chest wound as he hit the ground. Wiping her blade clean, the young armor-clad woman strode confidently up to her father, who was busily counting the bodies of the fallen.

"Thirteen of them and two of us..." he muttered, shaking his head.

"Sounds like an even trade to me, Father," came Alicia's immediate response, a small grin playing about her lips.

He turned to her with an appalled look on his face, immediately dispelling her smile. "Alicia- I thought I had taught you better. With a mindset like that, you'll hardly be better than the men we have been forced to kill. Taking a life is taking a life, regardless of who's life it is- and one should never resort to it unless it is completely necessary. These bandits may not have had families, but our tribemen did- and now they will have to deal with their fathers' deaths. What would you do had I died in this battle, Alicia?"

Averting her gaze from her father, her vision was brought to one of the many corpses strewn across the battlefield. His throat had been pierced with some sort of pole-arm weapon and a vast sea of blood had formed around the corpse, all of the sanguine stuff having come from that one wound. His eyes bulged in lifeless terror- his now-still hands clutched at the hole where his lifeblood had poured out. Worst of all, Alicia knew him as Kehjak, a good friend of her father's. He had recently married to another in the tribe (Mildred, she was fairly certain her name was), though it appeared as though he would have no children to his name.

"Dad, I'm sorry... I didn't know..."

"Alicia." He put a hand on her shoulder, causing the young Knight to turn back to him. "You're eighteen now, and I don't expect you to listen to and understand everything I teach you. But you have to understand this to be fit for the battlefield." Tears welled up in Alicia's eyes as she anticipated what he was about to say.

"As of today, until you learn to respect life- even those of your enemy- you will no longer be allowed to wield your blade by my side."

No response was given by Alicia aside from her steady stream of tears. She would not argue with her father- he knew best and she did indeed need to learn this lesson. But it hurt to be removed from what little part of her life she had control over, and now that had been taken away from her by the man that new it best. She wanted to scream at him; to protest her "imprisonment", but she realized it would do no good.

"Come on, Alicia. It's time to go home."

xp: 514 # 1695 xp

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