The WIck
17-09-2008, 04:04
Village of Gainesville
Planet Miranda
The Farstars Confederacy
The cold rain beat down upon his head and shoulders pouring through his chain mail and soaking the padded leather and cotton undergarments he wore underneath his armor. His eyes were closed as he stood his vigil in the middle of the dirt road leading to the small mill village behind him. He could feel the rain fall his hair down his face and nose and neck. He had stood here for so long he felt as if he was frozen but his meditation help calm him and fool his body to the pain he felt. He took comfort in the small amount of heat the torch behind him gave off and would be thankful for its light when the time came. That time would be coming soon he could hear the hoof beats of the approaching mounts now, and he heard the horses whinny and breath as they came to a stop and only then did he move his right arm to one of the two swords he carried in the sash around his waist and open his eyes.
There in front of him were the four brigands which had come to this village each month to demand tribute in the form of gold, food, and women. They had come every month since the King called his banner men north of the war. Leaving the small village alone against the more mundane threats poised to it. Alone, until he had visited it and now he was being paid to protect it. One man against four, he had faced better odds he admitted to himself.
He could hear now the curses and scowls of the bandits directed at the man who dared stand in their path. They were insulted that anyone would be so insolent as to attempt to deny them what was theirs. One bandit, the one directly in front of him demanded to know what his business was here, and that he would leave now or be killed, and at that he cantered his mount and quickly brought it to a gallop screaming that he would run the man down.
He stood there almost shocked for a second, surprised that the bandit leader would think his threat would mater. Were these fools so stupid as to believe that death was a threat? He lived by a code in which there was no breaking no excuses for not doing one’s duty. The reality of death was always with him, if one lived by the sword as he did one always was prepared to die by it.
The Bandit leader was still cursing him as he brought his sword downward to slice him through the man brought his katana slashing upwards catching the bandit in his chest and using his own momentum to cut clean through to the bandits neck nearly decapitating him, As his dying body fell to the ground the horse continued on its gallop now rider less. The victorious man pivoted to face the remaining three bandits with his sword held ready in a high guard above his head.
For several moment the bandits sat there frozen as if unbelieving that their leader was fallen. They had likely abused this village so many times that they felt invincible and unable to be brought to justice or harm. He intended to prove them wrong on both accounts.
Recovered finally the three bandits spurred their horses forward and charged him as one bellowing their revenge and his destruction. He did not move until it was necessary when the second bandit whose horse was faster than the others was upon him, he spun to his left his katana cutting through the flesh and bone of the bandits leg. His Katana was forged by a master craftsmen and held unbelievable strength, few on this world had such a weapon and even fewer knew how to wield it properly.
Even before the second bandit had fallen to the ground he spun and slashed at the third who had more skill then his fellows and managed to parry the slash. His blade though was not forged by a master, it was only, rusty and pitted, it shattered and the man’s blade. He now spun and parried a clumsy blow by the fourth bandit, and dragged his blade down the bandits with such force that he had to drop it. With a quick rotation of his wrist he drove his katana through the man’s chest, killing him.
Seeing the carnage wrought the third bandit turned and spurred his mount as fast as he could attempting to flee the monster they had faced. Retreat was a cowards tactic, he would not face justice or accept death honorably. The man was torn with what to do, the bandit was a coward when he faced a trained foe but he would terrorize, rape, and pillage those weaker than him any chance he would have. The man bent over and picked up the bandits broken sword and threw it with all his might at the fleeing bandit. It was not balanced correctly for a throwing weapon and the hilt not the broken blade took the bandit in the back of his head, nonetheless he fell from his mount into the mud dazed.
The man sheathed his Katana and walked towards the bandit. When he came upon the bandits prone form he reached down and lifted the man up to his knees. He then drew his Wakizashi, while pulling back the bandits head by his hair. He could hear the bandit begging for his life, pleading for forgiveness. It was at this begging the man spoke for the first time.
“Your sins can only be atoned for by death.” These icy words petrified the bandit, if it not for the rain one would have been able to see he soiled himself.
“Please I beg you, I don’t want to DIE!” the bandit manage to stutter. But was brought short as the short sword severed his jugular. The man said only one more sentence that the bandit heard as he quickly bleed to death,
“There is no death, only the Force.”
+ + +
Some weeks later
The bandits club hit him squarely in the small of his back sending a pulsing pain up his spine. The cruel bastard liked to hit him every few minutes to remind him who was in charge and who was the prisoner. He cursed his luck, he had escaped his village only to be taken in the woods, and now stripped of what little he had at the mercy of this bandit who was prodding him through the woods towards their camp.
“Not much further now boy. Oh stop your sniffling we wont kill you a lad like you will earn us a few good pieces of silver as a slave. The Northrons pay good for the likes of you.” The bandit laughed as they came onto their camp. It was not much more then a couple tents and a large fire but it held a half dozen bandits each with armor and weapons, and he had nothing. He could hear them cheering and dinking celebrating their take. The Bandit brought him to the center of the camp were he saw bound to a table was a young women from their village. He recognized her red hair and green eyes, it was Allison and they went to school together until he quit to be a blacksmith’s apprentice.
“Herzer!” She yelled his name as she saw him. “Help me please! Do something!”
“Shut up bitch!” one of the men yelled as he hit her faced with his armored fist, a few of her teeth broke and she was bleeding from the mouth. “So you to know one another eh? Tell you what boy, you will be the first to defile her and I wont kill you!” Their leader shouted. His comrades laughed at this thinking it would be quite the funny game. They pushed Herzer forward so that he was standing over her naked body. “Do it boy you aint gay I can tell you are excited. Do it Now!” Herzers eyes worked furiously as he looked at his situation. He could not hope to fight, in the end it would just get him killed against this many. But he could not rape Allison even if they killed him, he just couldn’t. That left only one last option.
As her eyes begged him to resist the bandit Herzer felt nothing but sick, he could feel the bile threatening to make him vomit.
“Allison, I-I’m so sorry” He said quickly before he took off running as fast as he could into the woods, he could hear the bandits laughing the leader telling them to let the little coward go, and that they had something much more entertaining to do anyway.
Herzer could feel the branches of the trees cut his face arms and bare feet as he ran as fast as he could, then he tripped and fell down a steep incline finally ending up in the cold waters of a broke, his head hit a rock and then he saw nothing but blackness.
He awoke with a start he could feel crusted blood on his face and his head was ringing. He was so cold the waters of the brook running over his legs and chest he was lucky to be alive, had his head been under water. Then he remember from what he was running and why. He stood and looked around and found a large stick that he could use as a stave. He had to go back and fight those bandits even if he was to die. He had to do something and he didn’t think he could live with himself if he didn’t try to help Allison. He ran back to the camp hoping it wasn’t to late.
It was to late he got to the camp and saw the table on which Allison was tied. She was no longer there but the large bloodstain which covered the top of the table left no doubt about her fate. Herzer fell to his knees and began to weep, what kind of man was he that he could even try to protect a helpless women, and as he searched his feelings he knew the truth he wasn’t much of one at all.
That was when he heard a voice.
“So you came back.” The voice was low and cold, and sounded harder then rock.
“Too late. Kill me please you bastard.” Herzer remained on his knees waiting for the bandit leader to finish him, to silence the misery he felt, to let the gods decide his eternal punishment for his failure.
“Why did you come back.” The voice asked.
“I had to do something I couldn’t before so I ran.” He did not know why he was answering this questions, he did not know why he was still alive.
“Sometime even the strongest warriors run. Only the foolish stand when death would be meaningless.”
At this Herzer’s head turned and looked at the man standing above him, his chain mail was flat black as was the katana he held. Both were stained by red blood. He offered Herzer a short sword from his sash, Herzer did not know the sword was a Wakizashi or an honor sword as the man continued to speak.
”You did fail her though. Use this sword and take your life to atone for your sins.” Herzer’s hand wrapped around the hilt and he brought the tip of the blade to his stomach. He held it there in his shaking hands. Then he dropped it to the ground.
“I- I cant.” There was so much more he wanted to say, that he wanted to find those that did this and kill them, make them pay. To make anyone else who did things like this to pay, that he wanted to drown his grief and anger in their blood. But he couldn’t.
“Good.” The cold voice said. Herzer saw the calloused hand extend down to him. “Then come with me if you want to live.”
Planet Miranda
The Farstars Confederacy
The cold rain beat down upon his head and shoulders pouring through his chain mail and soaking the padded leather and cotton undergarments he wore underneath his armor. His eyes were closed as he stood his vigil in the middle of the dirt road leading to the small mill village behind him. He could feel the rain fall his hair down his face and nose and neck. He had stood here for so long he felt as if he was frozen but his meditation help calm him and fool his body to the pain he felt. He took comfort in the small amount of heat the torch behind him gave off and would be thankful for its light when the time came. That time would be coming soon he could hear the hoof beats of the approaching mounts now, and he heard the horses whinny and breath as they came to a stop and only then did he move his right arm to one of the two swords he carried in the sash around his waist and open his eyes.
There in front of him were the four brigands which had come to this village each month to demand tribute in the form of gold, food, and women. They had come every month since the King called his banner men north of the war. Leaving the small village alone against the more mundane threats poised to it. Alone, until he had visited it and now he was being paid to protect it. One man against four, he had faced better odds he admitted to himself.
He could hear now the curses and scowls of the bandits directed at the man who dared stand in their path. They were insulted that anyone would be so insolent as to attempt to deny them what was theirs. One bandit, the one directly in front of him demanded to know what his business was here, and that he would leave now or be killed, and at that he cantered his mount and quickly brought it to a gallop screaming that he would run the man down.
He stood there almost shocked for a second, surprised that the bandit leader would think his threat would mater. Were these fools so stupid as to believe that death was a threat? He lived by a code in which there was no breaking no excuses for not doing one’s duty. The reality of death was always with him, if one lived by the sword as he did one always was prepared to die by it.
The Bandit leader was still cursing him as he brought his sword downward to slice him through the man brought his katana slashing upwards catching the bandit in his chest and using his own momentum to cut clean through to the bandits neck nearly decapitating him, As his dying body fell to the ground the horse continued on its gallop now rider less. The victorious man pivoted to face the remaining three bandits with his sword held ready in a high guard above his head.
For several moment the bandits sat there frozen as if unbelieving that their leader was fallen. They had likely abused this village so many times that they felt invincible and unable to be brought to justice or harm. He intended to prove them wrong on both accounts.
Recovered finally the three bandits spurred their horses forward and charged him as one bellowing their revenge and his destruction. He did not move until it was necessary when the second bandit whose horse was faster than the others was upon him, he spun to his left his katana cutting through the flesh and bone of the bandits leg. His Katana was forged by a master craftsmen and held unbelievable strength, few on this world had such a weapon and even fewer knew how to wield it properly.
Even before the second bandit had fallen to the ground he spun and slashed at the third who had more skill then his fellows and managed to parry the slash. His blade though was not forged by a master, it was only, rusty and pitted, it shattered and the man’s blade. He now spun and parried a clumsy blow by the fourth bandit, and dragged his blade down the bandits with such force that he had to drop it. With a quick rotation of his wrist he drove his katana through the man’s chest, killing him.
Seeing the carnage wrought the third bandit turned and spurred his mount as fast as he could attempting to flee the monster they had faced. Retreat was a cowards tactic, he would not face justice or accept death honorably. The man was torn with what to do, the bandit was a coward when he faced a trained foe but he would terrorize, rape, and pillage those weaker than him any chance he would have. The man bent over and picked up the bandits broken sword and threw it with all his might at the fleeing bandit. It was not balanced correctly for a throwing weapon and the hilt not the broken blade took the bandit in the back of his head, nonetheless he fell from his mount into the mud dazed.
The man sheathed his Katana and walked towards the bandit. When he came upon the bandits prone form he reached down and lifted the man up to his knees. He then drew his Wakizashi, while pulling back the bandits head by his hair. He could hear the bandit begging for his life, pleading for forgiveness. It was at this begging the man spoke for the first time.
“Your sins can only be atoned for by death.” These icy words petrified the bandit, if it not for the rain one would have been able to see he soiled himself.
“Please I beg you, I don’t want to DIE!” the bandit manage to stutter. But was brought short as the short sword severed his jugular. The man said only one more sentence that the bandit heard as he quickly bleed to death,
“There is no death, only the Force.”
+ + +
Some weeks later
The bandits club hit him squarely in the small of his back sending a pulsing pain up his spine. The cruel bastard liked to hit him every few minutes to remind him who was in charge and who was the prisoner. He cursed his luck, he had escaped his village only to be taken in the woods, and now stripped of what little he had at the mercy of this bandit who was prodding him through the woods towards their camp.
“Not much further now boy. Oh stop your sniffling we wont kill you a lad like you will earn us a few good pieces of silver as a slave. The Northrons pay good for the likes of you.” The bandit laughed as they came onto their camp. It was not much more then a couple tents and a large fire but it held a half dozen bandits each with armor and weapons, and he had nothing. He could hear them cheering and dinking celebrating their take. The Bandit brought him to the center of the camp were he saw bound to a table was a young women from their village. He recognized her red hair and green eyes, it was Allison and they went to school together until he quit to be a blacksmith’s apprentice.
“Herzer!” She yelled his name as she saw him. “Help me please! Do something!”
“Shut up bitch!” one of the men yelled as he hit her faced with his armored fist, a few of her teeth broke and she was bleeding from the mouth. “So you to know one another eh? Tell you what boy, you will be the first to defile her and I wont kill you!” Their leader shouted. His comrades laughed at this thinking it would be quite the funny game. They pushed Herzer forward so that he was standing over her naked body. “Do it boy you aint gay I can tell you are excited. Do it Now!” Herzers eyes worked furiously as he looked at his situation. He could not hope to fight, in the end it would just get him killed against this many. But he could not rape Allison even if they killed him, he just couldn’t. That left only one last option.
As her eyes begged him to resist the bandit Herzer felt nothing but sick, he could feel the bile threatening to make him vomit.
“Allison, I-I’m so sorry” He said quickly before he took off running as fast as he could into the woods, he could hear the bandits laughing the leader telling them to let the little coward go, and that they had something much more entertaining to do anyway.
Herzer could feel the branches of the trees cut his face arms and bare feet as he ran as fast as he could, then he tripped and fell down a steep incline finally ending up in the cold waters of a broke, his head hit a rock and then he saw nothing but blackness.
He awoke with a start he could feel crusted blood on his face and his head was ringing. He was so cold the waters of the brook running over his legs and chest he was lucky to be alive, had his head been under water. Then he remember from what he was running and why. He stood and looked around and found a large stick that he could use as a stave. He had to go back and fight those bandits even if he was to die. He had to do something and he didn’t think he could live with himself if he didn’t try to help Allison. He ran back to the camp hoping it wasn’t to late.
It was to late he got to the camp and saw the table on which Allison was tied. She was no longer there but the large bloodstain which covered the top of the table left no doubt about her fate. Herzer fell to his knees and began to weep, what kind of man was he that he could even try to protect a helpless women, and as he searched his feelings he knew the truth he wasn’t much of one at all.
That was when he heard a voice.
“So you came back.” The voice was low and cold, and sounded harder then rock.
“Too late. Kill me please you bastard.” Herzer remained on his knees waiting for the bandit leader to finish him, to silence the misery he felt, to let the gods decide his eternal punishment for his failure.
“Why did you come back.” The voice asked.
“I had to do something I couldn’t before so I ran.” He did not know why he was answering this questions, he did not know why he was still alive.
“Sometime even the strongest warriors run. Only the foolish stand when death would be meaningless.”
At this Herzer’s head turned and looked at the man standing above him, his chain mail was flat black as was the katana he held. Both were stained by red blood. He offered Herzer a short sword from his sash, Herzer did not know the sword was a Wakizashi or an honor sword as the man continued to speak.
”You did fail her though. Use this sword and take your life to atone for your sins.” Herzer’s hand wrapped around the hilt and he brought the tip of the blade to his stomach. He held it there in his shaking hands. Then he dropped it to the ground.
“I- I cant.” There was so much more he wanted to say, that he wanted to find those that did this and kill them, make them pay. To make anyone else who did things like this to pay, that he wanted to drown his grief and anger in their blood. But he couldn’t.
“Good.” The cold voice said. Herzer saw the calloused hand extend down to him. “Then come with me if you want to live.”