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The Talroy Warband, a Story of an Unlikely Group: Prologue part 1. [pg-13]

Curadh de na Faolchu Corcra
Grodin
Curadh de na Faolchu Corcra
Posted On: 12/16/2012 at 10:58 PM

    "Booka," the ale keg next to me lay empty, the mug in my hand moving towards my snout in an attempt to fulfill a thirst that is unquenchable. Toiling in my filth of a mind lays an ancient truth strung in the deepest recesses of my memory. The fight seemed vivid, the scent of blood and flesh hung loosely in the air, Orr, a terrible place for a first mission, I tugged my spear out of its tissue, his tissue, he was non-living, dead, but it didn't make the first kill any easier. Nothing prepares you for this, the cleaning of a tool, being a cog in the machine, the endless thrum of  a hammer, beating in your chest the only constant thing that holds you to the realm of the living. *Sniff* nothing changed, the merry laughter of comrades filled the air that day. I look to my left to see an empty closet, this dump wasn't meant for a monster, a beast of burden. 

        "OPEN THE DOOR," a voice rang out after  two thumps on my door. humans cant stay quiet for long, bastards, they remind me of the undead fleas of Orr, relentlessly annoying. I opened the door a crack, and let out a deep thrum in my throat, terror made an appearance on his face. He is new, first job perhaps, a high rank for a flea. "Grodin we know it's you, you pathetic worm, get out here now before..." I reached my arm through the crack, and grabbed him by the chainmail around his neck and pulled him closer to my eyes.

        "BEFORE WHAT, you run back home to your mommy and say the mean bully cut up your face.... don't bark orders at me DOG." in a quick flick of my wrist, he went flying back several feet down the stairs of the hallway, time to move again. I latched my hammer to my back and held onto my great sword as I leapt towards the door knocking it down like paper, I took my fist and swiped the poor flea in the head denting the helmet his family adorned him in his honor, he was nothing but a coward, I've slaughtered cowards by the thousands. 

        "GLADIUM!," I knew that voice anywhere, one of the legionnaires pets that served under my lead during a push against the Dragonbrand. A solitary charr standing on the road in front of me, Targrar Rangetrue, a marksman legend, the lone survivor of the range warband, he had his rifle sights lined up, I held my long sword in the same fashion. I dropped my bag to my side  and slowly sidestepped towards a larger section in the road, it was a standoff, he had the advantage but there was weakness in his eyes, he came to maim not kill, I reached my free hand to my back and unlatched my hammer THUUUUUNKKKK, a few mice scattered in the alley to my side, I've only got a small margin, the hammer in my chest picked up pace, the excitement made me feel young again. The hammers head rested on the ground, the shaft stuck into the air.  I saw the slight shift in his gaze, and I took the moment of opportunity and slammed my sword into the ground, the blade sinking into the shallow mud, the shot rang out and I ducked behind my blade as if it were a shield, the shot clanked and I began my counter, sweeping my arms behind my back, I grabbed the shaft of the hammer and lurched forward, shoving every last muscle to their max to get this throw precise, I released the hammer, it sailed through the air as if it were a feather off of a moa. There was a thud and the thump of a body hitting the floor, BHAK, missed, the dolyak let out its last breath in a wail of pain from a severely fractured skull, Targrar leapt to his feet and made a full charge at me, drawing a pistol in his off hand, and an rusty war axe in the other, he made it too easy now, he fired a shot, a little too late, mid step, another insult to my already wasted time, PING, my shoulder went numb as the bullet bounced off my shoulder plate. My open hand met his face, slamming my finger into his eye socket, using it as a grip, I threw his head into the pavement, he was and still is too weak, I made a quick kick into his ribs, I heard the crunch and my thirst was quenched.

            I went over to the dead dolyak, pulled out my knife and slowly began cutting of a chunk of meat, fresh warm blood covered my hands, what a sensation, my mouth began to water, I grabbed the hammer and latched it back into place and slid my greatsword into place as well. I went over to his limp body and slammed my foot into his spine, breaking his back, he deserved his pain, he wil not die this day, but he will die a cripple and an eyeless doyl. I let out a deep bellow.

            A shock ran through my body, and everything went black....

1325 AE

60 days before the present day

Name: Grodin Longclaw

Race: Charr

Rank: Gladium, ex-Legionnare/Centurion

Cause of Rank loss: The end of the Range Warband

Prior Warband: The Long Warband

Current area of residence: Diessa Plateu

 



» Edited on: 2012-12-16 23:05:19



» Edited on: 2012-12-16 23:06:40

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