Feeling the comforting confines of my armor again I remember the humiliation that took me out of it in the first place as I walk the familiar streets of my patrol once again. Sighing I think about each of the things that I was accused of particularly the last. Grunting I shake my head and continue the patrol, "Too much time to think while off duty as is, too much thought and not enough to keep myself busy." I mutter to myself keeping a careful eye on the other Militia I pass and saluting as needed. Looking around I keep an eye out for known troublemakers and those who might have joined the cause of making the city worse.
Thinking of trouble the Captain's words come back to me and I think of goblins and other problems and make plans to head out on my off time and scout the area, maybe make a visit to the goblins for a good fight. I chuckle to myself at that thought. "I really have been climbing the walls if I want to go play with goblins in their home terf." I mutter again keeping an eye out as I turn a corner. As I do I catch sight of Gareth, my older brother, heading my way and I frown. Not one of the worst of my many siblings, he tended to the overly protective, but not a favorite either and I once again feel very glad I missed meeting any of my family while on suspension.
Trying not to catch his attention, at which I fail miserably as there are not many 5'2" females in the Militia, he waves excitedly like an overeager puppy and bounds towards me not noticing the people who are jostled by the action. Leaving a path of glaring and loudly complaining fellow street goers in his wake he finally stops near me nearly vibrating with too much good will and energy. "Hey little sister, still playing dress up in men's clothing and pretending to be tough?" he grins looking as though he expects me to join in the fun, laugh, toss my armor away, and go back to being a proper woman. Instead frown a bit as I look up to his face which is nearly a foot above mine. "Good day Gareth, I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about but I must go, I am still on patrol."
Looking a little deflated by my obvious lack of the expected enthusiasm at giving up what he seems to consider a great joke he grabs my shoulder causing me to need to resist the urge to break his hand, "Sharai, don't keep doing this non-sense. You had your fun, you got to make a point though no one understands why you felt the need to. Just give it up and come home." I twitch a bit at his words and twist out of the hold he had me in, "Gareth don't touch me, what is it with people touching me recently?" I mutter to myself not really seeing the look that crosses my brother's face, "For the last time, I am not playing a game, I am not making a statement, I couldn't go home regardless of if I had this career. What is so hard to understand that you all feel like you can just show up and I will suddenly change my mind?" This is said in a quiet but frustrated tone and I remind myself of control and the need to use it. Taking a breath I am about to continue when I realize that my bear of a brother is towering over me, his shoulders which bulge with muscle from long hours in the forge working as a blacksmith, causing a dark shadow as he blocks the sun, "I dunno if you realize this sis but you are a girl." as though this should come as a surprise, "And girls do NOT run around in armor, waving a sword, playing soldier. What makes you think they even take you seriously eh? You run around here as though anyone actually believes you are a threat. You should hear the jokes about you in the Knave! You have any idea how many heads I have to bust cause of that?"
I look at him surprised then shake my head with a sigh, "Gareth." he interrupts, "I didn't think so, you have no idea what your actions are doin to Ma and Da do ya?" muttering some unflattering things about my family in general and my brother in particular under my breath I continue on my patrol, my brother following me trying to look fierce and looming, "And who asked you to?" I ask him over my shoulder, "Why would I need you to ask for that? It is what a brother does, he protects his sisters and their reputation." he sounds hurt and tries to hide it, "Not that you have left much reputation for me to salvage." I grunt a bit then look over, "You ready to hear me yet?" I ask and my brother looks even more hurt at my words but shrugs, "If you all would just let go and let me live my life then you wouldn't need to bust heads, which I would really rather you not do as I might have to be the one to drag you to the Stockade for it." at his astonished look I continue, "You should just feel lucky I haven't heard of any complaints about you and don't think I wouldn't do it either brother or no now if you would excuse me, give my love to the family, I have work to do." with that I leave him standing there looking lost and continue on my patrol, knowing this is not the last I will hear from him, or any of them and not looking forward to a united front.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
A New Day
I watch as the Captain tears out of the stuffy enclosed room as fast as she can without running. I cannot help but smile a bit but the expression soon fades to the worried frown I seem to have worn for days. I look down at the reports I finished some moments ago and sigh heavily before looking at the elderly woman who has kept watch on her reluctant ward, the poor woman looks as tired as I feel. Picking up everything I brought I make sure to leave nothing behind, the last thing I need is to have to spend yet more time coming back here. I pause a moment as I realized I can no longer avoid using the Captains office while she is off duty, while I may have hated this stuffy room at least it offered me an excuse not to use the office. I cannot help but think of it as her's and feel horribly uncomfortable feeling like I am taking it over. "Just for now," I mutter, "she will be back soon enough." Feeling a bit better with this assertion, if only to myself I nod to the woman who takes no notice of me as I begin to head out.
Passing through the door I observe that the Templar who has been statue like in his ever present stance by the door, is conspicuously missing. "No reason for him to stick around I suppose." I mutter to myself then frown as I realize how much I am doing that lately. I shake my head at myself and begin to head out of the Temple proper pausing at each of the side Temples to pay my respects to the gods. I figure at this point I can use all the help I can get. That done, though not without a frown and quick glance away by the priests, I step out onto the streets. I pause briefly before sighing and figuring it is time once again for patrol, so resolved I begin heading to the Stockaid to drop off the reports in the Captain's office. As I walk I cannot help occasionally reaching up to touch the hilt of my sword and think back on the faces of the men who died that night, the men I killed.
I remember it so clearly, the smell of that room, the sounds, the smoke, and how I had memorized the positions of each man before visibility is lost. How focused my mind was in that moment and how clearly I could plan every move, every motion as though time stopped. I watched as I did the same moves that I had practiced hundreds of times in the graveyard against the undead. The thing I remember most though was when it was over and I saw their faces looking at me, their dead eyes staring into mine with accusation. It no longer mattered then that we were on separate sides of a conflict that can only end in blood, it didn't matter that they spent days torturing my Captain for the same reason they would happily kill me. All that mattered then, was that it was my hand that ended their life, and that has haunted me since. Suddenly I feel something moving towards my face and without thinking I grab it and squeeze hard.
A loud "EEeek!," is the result and I realize that a soft female hand is gripped tightly in my own. Looking down the arm attached to this hand and to the face of the owner I see my eldest sister looking back at me in pained shock. I release her hand and use the one that had so recently captured her own to rub my eyes. "What do you need Lyra? I do not have a lot of time today." I can feel the offended waves roiling off of her and hear her suck in a sharp affronted breath before the explosion of her words roll over me. "What do I need? What do I need indeed! I am not the one standing in the middle of the Gazebo mid morning staring into space like a lack wit touching a worn out hunk of iron you claim to be a sword. Isn't it enough you stain our family with this foolishness of yours, that now you have to act like an imbecile in public to boot. You realize don't you, that you have made our family a laughingstock?" Taking my hand from my eyes I look at her tiredly and see her in her best dress breathing heavily, red faced. I realize then that I don't know her any longer, that my parents and siblings and the whole street of people I thought I knew while growing up, they are all strangers to me now. What is worse by far, is that I fear that the one I know the least, is myself. She must have taken my silence to mean I have relented because she seems to calm down and step towards me putting a timid hand on my arm, the first time any of my family, barring Kethren of course, has touched me in kindness since the night I left. "Don't you see what this choice of yours is doing to you? To us? Look at you, exhausted and staring at nothing in the middle of the street. This isn't right and it isn't healthy. If you come home I can talk to Ma and Da for you and we can work something out. Maybe Jethra will still take you, scars and all. Wouldn't you like that now that you have had your little adventure? You got what you wanted right? You have made your grand statement."
In that moment I can see it, what she describes. I can see myself in a dress very like her own, a fish sellers wife or maybe a bakers. Having child after child to a husband who spends the money he earns on drink and prostitutes as I saw so often from the other families on our street. Living in a one room shack because we could not afford better and watching as the meager food I am expected to cook goes directly into his gut with little to nothing for myself and the guaranteed endless supply of children. I can feel from this vision, the helplessness of the situation, the feeling that my life is not my own and see myself going deeper into oblivion until I simply fade away and cease to exist. Blinking I look at her a moment before sighing and patting her callused hand with my scarred one. "I am sorry Lyra, I don't think it will work." It takes her a moment for my words to sink in, but when they do she yanks her hand off of my arm and begins to stalk away. Three paces from me she turns opens her mouth a time or two before her poisoned words find their way past an angry mouth. "Just so you know, if you end up dead the family isn't paying for you death rights. Your new family, the militia," she spits the last word out with hate, "can take care of that for you. Just remember I gave you a chance to be a proper woman but I guess that is just too good for you isn't it? Oh and the rest of the family will probably come find you at some point. Just to give you the same opportunity I did, I guess they might as well not bother. For some reason we were worried about you, wasted effort if you ask me." With that her nose points skyward, she turns sharply on her heel, and off she stomps with angry little steps. Every inch of her the indignant little female, the very personification of everything they want me to be, the very thing I tried so hard to be, and failed for so many years. With another tired sigh I finish my walk to the Stockaid noting which of the men are on rotation and which are off patrol, noting the disgusted looks from some, and the friendly demeanor from others.
My final thought before I head out on patrol myself is that the ones who greet me with a smile are the ones I trust the least. Perhaps I am becoming paranoid but then perhaps that will save my life. Touching my sword again I remember the feel of the Captains daggers and begin planning a trip to the weapon smith for a steel sword, iron does not stay sharp nearly long enough for my comfort with the winds of change from storm I feel brewing.
Passing through the door I observe that the Templar who has been statue like in his ever present stance by the door, is conspicuously missing. "No reason for him to stick around I suppose." I mutter to myself then frown as I realize how much I am doing that lately. I shake my head at myself and begin to head out of the Temple proper pausing at each of the side Temples to pay my respects to the gods. I figure at this point I can use all the help I can get. That done, though not without a frown and quick glance away by the priests, I step out onto the streets. I pause briefly before sighing and figuring it is time once again for patrol, so resolved I begin heading to the Stockaid to drop off the reports in the Captain's office. As I walk I cannot help occasionally reaching up to touch the hilt of my sword and think back on the faces of the men who died that night, the men I killed.
I remember it so clearly, the smell of that room, the sounds, the smoke, and how I had memorized the positions of each man before visibility is lost. How focused my mind was in that moment and how clearly I could plan every move, every motion as though time stopped. I watched as I did the same moves that I had practiced hundreds of times in the graveyard against the undead. The thing I remember most though was when it was over and I saw their faces looking at me, their dead eyes staring into mine with accusation. It no longer mattered then that we were on separate sides of a conflict that can only end in blood, it didn't matter that they spent days torturing my Captain for the same reason they would happily kill me. All that mattered then, was that it was my hand that ended their life, and that has haunted me since. Suddenly I feel something moving towards my face and without thinking I grab it and squeeze hard.
A loud "EEeek!," is the result and I realize that a soft female hand is gripped tightly in my own. Looking down the arm attached to this hand and to the face of the owner I see my eldest sister looking back at me in pained shock. I release her hand and use the one that had so recently captured her own to rub my eyes. "What do you need Lyra? I do not have a lot of time today." I can feel the offended waves roiling off of her and hear her suck in a sharp affronted breath before the explosion of her words roll over me. "What do I need? What do I need indeed! I am not the one standing in the middle of the Gazebo mid morning staring into space like a lack wit touching a worn out hunk of iron you claim to be a sword. Isn't it enough you stain our family with this foolishness of yours, that now you have to act like an imbecile in public to boot. You realize don't you, that you have made our family a laughingstock?" Taking my hand from my eyes I look at her tiredly and see her in her best dress breathing heavily, red faced. I realize then that I don't know her any longer, that my parents and siblings and the whole street of people I thought I knew while growing up, they are all strangers to me now. What is worse by far, is that I fear that the one I know the least, is myself. She must have taken my silence to mean I have relented because she seems to calm down and step towards me putting a timid hand on my arm, the first time any of my family, barring Kethren of course, has touched me in kindness since the night I left. "Don't you see what this choice of yours is doing to you? To us? Look at you, exhausted and staring at nothing in the middle of the street. This isn't right and it isn't healthy. If you come home I can talk to Ma and Da for you and we can work something out. Maybe Jethra will still take you, scars and all. Wouldn't you like that now that you have had your little adventure? You got what you wanted right? You have made your grand statement."
In that moment I can see it, what she describes. I can see myself in a dress very like her own, a fish sellers wife or maybe a bakers. Having child after child to a husband who spends the money he earns on drink and prostitutes as I saw so often from the other families on our street. Living in a one room shack because we could not afford better and watching as the meager food I am expected to cook goes directly into his gut with little to nothing for myself and the guaranteed endless supply of children. I can feel from this vision, the helplessness of the situation, the feeling that my life is not my own and see myself going deeper into oblivion until I simply fade away and cease to exist. Blinking I look at her a moment before sighing and patting her callused hand with my scarred one. "I am sorry Lyra, I don't think it will work." It takes her a moment for my words to sink in, but when they do she yanks her hand off of my arm and begins to stalk away. Three paces from me she turns opens her mouth a time or two before her poisoned words find their way past an angry mouth. "Just so you know, if you end up dead the family isn't paying for you death rights. Your new family, the militia," she spits the last word out with hate, "can take care of that for you. Just remember I gave you a chance to be a proper woman but I guess that is just too good for you isn't it? Oh and the rest of the family will probably come find you at some point. Just to give you the same opportunity I did, I guess they might as well not bother. For some reason we were worried about you, wasted effort if you ask me." With that her nose points skyward, she turns sharply on her heel, and off she stomps with angry little steps. Every inch of her the indignant little female, the very personification of everything they want me to be, the very thing I tried so hard to be, and failed for so many years. With another tired sigh I finish my walk to the Stockaid noting which of the men are on rotation and which are off patrol, noting the disgusted looks from some, and the friendly demeanor from others.
My final thought before I head out on patrol myself is that the ones who greet me with a smile are the ones I trust the least. Perhaps I am becoming paranoid but then perhaps that will save my life. Touching my sword again I remember the feel of the Captains daggers and begin planning a trip to the weapon smith for a steel sword, iron does not stay sharp nearly long enough for my comfort with the winds of change from storm I feel brewing.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
A Dark Path
I try to stride down the street as I normally do thankfully well hidden under my cloak serving to hide who I am for now. Thoughts racing through my mind, last night with the rebels and their ultimatum, my stupid move attacking them all knowing it was a lost cause but having to anyway. "Well I guess you are going to learn strategy one way or another aren't ya girl." I mutter to myself as I try not to draw attention to myself. I breath shallowly so as not to aggravate her many wounds. "F-ing bastards, I hope the Captain skins them all, every one of them. I would happily assist." she touches the dagger at her waist a moment before continuing on to the Temple.
Arriving at the Temple with a brief relieved sigh she finds a priest and approaches. "Excuse me, might I get a bit of healing please." she asks politely. The priest turns at her address and looks her up and down, "Yes of course, I need to see what I am healing though girl." he says gesturing at the cloak. With a nod I remove the cloak revealing my wounds, armor, and gender which draws a disapproving frown from the priest, "Yes well," he sniffs, "Let's get this over with so you can go out and get yourself hurt again, hmm girl?" I try not to show any expression on my face at this patronizing speech though I am sure I failed in some way as the priest continued to look more and more like he was sucking on something sour. The process did not take long and once it had finished I felt great though the memory of the pain I had been in remained. I bow gratefully to the priest, "Thank you very much." he looks at me and sniffs again, "Well go on girl, I do not have all day to waste healing little girls playing soldier." So saying he turns and strides away his back radiating offense. With a sigh I turn to head back to the Stockaid and my waiting men.
As I step into the Rose Gazebo I see a small green creature appear out of no where and attack a civilian. Realizing what I am seeing I yell at the nearest person to sound the alarm that we are under attack, draw my sword, and skewer the creature on the end of my blade. As the goblin, as it obviously is upon closer inspection, gasps it's last I listen to the screaming from other attacks and begin running to the nearest finding yet another goblin trying to kill as many people as it can. This goblin too meets it's end by dent of my blade, not long after I notice a couple of my fellow militia running up. "The goblins are attacking, have the men spread out in groups and take them out, I want every street searched, capture one alive if you can." With that they run off and I continue looking for the little monsters finding 4 more of them. They seem remarkably eager to die as each time I try and take on alive the thing would spear itself on my sword before it lost consciousness. Finding no more goblins as I patrol the city looking for them and hearing reports that no others have been found I head back to the stockaid and my waiting briefing with the men.
Entering the room set aside for this briefing I nod to the men assembled and stride to the front of the room. Once I arrive at the front of the room I wait for the talk to die down and gaze serenely at the assembly. Once the room is silent and all eyes are on me I begin. "I will make this quick and simple, early this morning the Captain was taken by the rebel group. Until she returns I am acting Captain as per the Commander, if you have complaints see me after the meeting and we will...talk." I look them in the eyes a moment making my meaning plain, "We will be setting up groups, I will choose 3 to come with me to the noble district where we will begin questioning nobles for involvement in the rebel groups and by the gods be subtle, the rest of you will do patrols as per norm but I want to questioning the people on your routes about the rebel group and what you can learn about them, again subtlety is your friend. I doubt we can keep it quiet that we are searching for long but the longer we can the better for this city. Any questions?" when no one speaks I nod, "Alright Varkez, Rand, and Berric you are with me the rest of you get back on your beats. With that I head out the door followed by my three chosen men.
Arriving at the Temple with a brief relieved sigh she finds a priest and approaches. "Excuse me, might I get a bit of healing please." she asks politely. The priest turns at her address and looks her up and down, "Yes of course, I need to see what I am healing though girl." he says gesturing at the cloak. With a nod I remove the cloak revealing my wounds, armor, and gender which draws a disapproving frown from the priest, "Yes well," he sniffs, "Let's get this over with so you can go out and get yourself hurt again, hmm girl?" I try not to show any expression on my face at this patronizing speech though I am sure I failed in some way as the priest continued to look more and more like he was sucking on something sour. The process did not take long and once it had finished I felt great though the memory of the pain I had been in remained. I bow gratefully to the priest, "Thank you very much." he looks at me and sniffs again, "Well go on girl, I do not have all day to waste healing little girls playing soldier." So saying he turns and strides away his back radiating offense. With a sigh I turn to head back to the Stockaid and my waiting men.
As I step into the Rose Gazebo I see a small green creature appear out of no where and attack a civilian. Realizing what I am seeing I yell at the nearest person to sound the alarm that we are under attack, draw my sword, and skewer the creature on the end of my blade. As the goblin, as it obviously is upon closer inspection, gasps it's last I listen to the screaming from other attacks and begin running to the nearest finding yet another goblin trying to kill as many people as it can. This goblin too meets it's end by dent of my blade, not long after I notice a couple of my fellow militia running up. "The goblins are attacking, have the men spread out in groups and take them out, I want every street searched, capture one alive if you can." With that they run off and I continue looking for the little monsters finding 4 more of them. They seem remarkably eager to die as each time I try and take on alive the thing would spear itself on my sword before it lost consciousness. Finding no more goblins as I patrol the city looking for them and hearing reports that no others have been found I head back to the stockaid and my waiting briefing with the men.
Entering the room set aside for this briefing I nod to the men assembled and stride to the front of the room. Once I arrive at the front of the room I wait for the talk to die down and gaze serenely at the assembly. Once the room is silent and all eyes are on me I begin. "I will make this quick and simple, early this morning the Captain was taken by the rebel group. Until she returns I am acting Captain as per the Commander, if you have complaints see me after the meeting and we will...talk." I look them in the eyes a moment making my meaning plain, "We will be setting up groups, I will choose 3 to come with me to the noble district where we will begin questioning nobles for involvement in the rebel groups and by the gods be subtle, the rest of you will do patrols as per norm but I want to questioning the people on your routes about the rebel group and what you can learn about them, again subtlety is your friend. I doubt we can keep it quiet that we are searching for long but the longer we can the better for this city. Any questions?" when no one speaks I nod, "Alright Varkez, Rand, and Berric you are with me the rest of you get back on your beats. With that I head out the door followed by my three chosen men.
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