Post by longstevo on Mar 14, 2007 21:20:03 GMT -5
“Ah, you remember…” mused the fighter as he saw Garron continue to stare at the ground, “You knew you couldn’t take responsibility for your actions, otherwise all your achievements and everything you’d worked for would be stripped from you. So instead of owning up to your actions, you let the blame fall on us. Tell me, Captain, how did you come to decide which of us to burn? What made you decide which of your loyal soldiers to damn?”
“NO!!” Garron leaped to his feet in a desperate effort to stop the warrior from speaking. The memories, guilt, shame and everything in between came crashing down upon the old vet. But before he was able to reach his former soldier, a swift strike in his chin caught him off guard and sent him sprawling onto the ground. The second Ebony fighter had stepped in front of the talking one and delivered the blow.
Shaking his head and wiping the new blood that slowly began seeping from his lip, Garron rose to his feet once again. Silently, Valandil watched. This was not his fight, and he wisely decided to stay out.
Suddenly ditching his calm and collective demeanor, the fighter began to hiss and spit at Garron as he spoke, “You probably don’t even remember my name. I know you sure don’t remember my face! Let me enlighten you! I am Carthas Kalthonis, formerly sergeant of the royal military of the Kingdom of Edinmarsh. Company leader of Second Group and loyal soldier to the beloved Captain Mejere. And this,” he motioned to the silent one, “is Jungar Arisis, my right hand man and second in command of said company. You remember us now, don’t you?”
Garron could only nod. What else could say? Everything that had been said was true. He had, in fact, ordered the killing of those innocent people and allowed his men to fall for him. After that incident he had straightened himself out, following every regulation, knight’s code paragraph and law applicable to the letter, hoping desperately that thirty years of faithful service would somehow make up for the one act of brutality that tainted his soul. But he realized that nothing could erase, or even cover up, the blackness that rotted at his insides.
Carthas only drove the point home, “You threw us to the wind, leaving us to starve among rocks and cliffs. Looking as we did, there was no home for us among the world of men. Every village and town that we sought help from only chased us out, labeling us as freaks. We lived off the earth for nearly ten years. We even went to each other’s own homes, but even our own mothers cast us away,” Carthas’ voice broke a bit.
“But one day we came upon an old cave. And inside the cave was a hidden smith and several blacksmithing supplies. Pure silver and steel and many forms and tools were strewn about. It is still a mystery as to what its purpose was and why it was hidden in a cave, but we asked no questions. After a time, we set about creating these,” Carthas held his mask in one and studied it before dropping it to the ground, “We adorned the masks and terrorized many small towns, acting as if we were evil deities that arose from the bowels of hell. After we bent the will of the people and made them pay homage to us, survival was a little easier, as they offered us food and other subsistence stuffs under our threats of terror and doom. We lived in the cave and came down for our offerings when our food got low. When we weren’t scratching for survival or making life hard on the locals, we spent every waking hour plotting our revenge.”
“Our…spies inside the city alerted us every time you moved, but you were always under guard or with soldiers. Never were you alone for us to strike. We attempted to get at you in your sleep, but we failed,” it was then that Garron now knew why the masks looked familiar. He had a dream once about a mask similar to the ones worn by the warriors haunting him above his bed. But now he realized that it was indeed a real event. Why the assassination had failed, he didn’t know, nor did he care to ask. Words failed to come to him, so he remained silent. But Carthas continued.
“But now finally, you were on the move, essentially unguarded and alone. Until the vampire stepped in, which is why we had to get involved with your little skirmish. We couldn’t let that beast slay you, we needed you for ourselves…”
“Fine! Get to the point! What do you want?” snapped Garron.
“Oh my friend, you have no idea…” Carthas laughed as two other masked Ebony fighters suddenly leaped from the bushes and shoved the former captain to the ground.
“NO!!” Garron leaped to his feet in a desperate effort to stop the warrior from speaking. The memories, guilt, shame and everything in between came crashing down upon the old vet. But before he was able to reach his former soldier, a swift strike in his chin caught him off guard and sent him sprawling onto the ground. The second Ebony fighter had stepped in front of the talking one and delivered the blow.
Shaking his head and wiping the new blood that slowly began seeping from his lip, Garron rose to his feet once again. Silently, Valandil watched. This was not his fight, and he wisely decided to stay out.
Suddenly ditching his calm and collective demeanor, the fighter began to hiss and spit at Garron as he spoke, “You probably don’t even remember my name. I know you sure don’t remember my face! Let me enlighten you! I am Carthas Kalthonis, formerly sergeant of the royal military of the Kingdom of Edinmarsh. Company leader of Second Group and loyal soldier to the beloved Captain Mejere. And this,” he motioned to the silent one, “is Jungar Arisis, my right hand man and second in command of said company. You remember us now, don’t you?”
Garron could only nod. What else could say? Everything that had been said was true. He had, in fact, ordered the killing of those innocent people and allowed his men to fall for him. After that incident he had straightened himself out, following every regulation, knight’s code paragraph and law applicable to the letter, hoping desperately that thirty years of faithful service would somehow make up for the one act of brutality that tainted his soul. But he realized that nothing could erase, or even cover up, the blackness that rotted at his insides.
Carthas only drove the point home, “You threw us to the wind, leaving us to starve among rocks and cliffs. Looking as we did, there was no home for us among the world of men. Every village and town that we sought help from only chased us out, labeling us as freaks. We lived off the earth for nearly ten years. We even went to each other’s own homes, but even our own mothers cast us away,” Carthas’ voice broke a bit.
“But one day we came upon an old cave. And inside the cave was a hidden smith and several blacksmithing supplies. Pure silver and steel and many forms and tools were strewn about. It is still a mystery as to what its purpose was and why it was hidden in a cave, but we asked no questions. After a time, we set about creating these,” Carthas held his mask in one and studied it before dropping it to the ground, “We adorned the masks and terrorized many small towns, acting as if we were evil deities that arose from the bowels of hell. After we bent the will of the people and made them pay homage to us, survival was a little easier, as they offered us food and other subsistence stuffs under our threats of terror and doom. We lived in the cave and came down for our offerings when our food got low. When we weren’t scratching for survival or making life hard on the locals, we spent every waking hour plotting our revenge.”
“Our…spies inside the city alerted us every time you moved, but you were always under guard or with soldiers. Never were you alone for us to strike. We attempted to get at you in your sleep, but we failed,” it was then that Garron now knew why the masks looked familiar. He had a dream once about a mask similar to the ones worn by the warriors haunting him above his bed. But now he realized that it was indeed a real event. Why the assassination had failed, he didn’t know, nor did he care to ask. Words failed to come to him, so he remained silent. But Carthas continued.
“But now finally, you were on the move, essentially unguarded and alone. Until the vampire stepped in, which is why we had to get involved with your little skirmish. We couldn’t let that beast slay you, we needed you for ourselves…”
“Fine! Get to the point! What do you want?” snapped Garron.
“Oh my friend, you have no idea…” Carthas laughed as two other masked Ebony fighters suddenly leaped from the bushes and shoved the former captain to the ground.