(Closed)
Father Learing sighed. His neck hurt, his eyes stung and the ink pot he dipped his quill into made a rather ominous sound. Reaching forward and wrapping his stiff fingers around the dirty little pieces of glass, he found his assumption true and dutifully saw the bottom of the pot. This would have to wait for the morning. The only people still awake at this time of night were those too gone within their drinks to help him. Besides, no respectful Father of the Church would dare be seen in such a hovel as this. In fact he wouldn’t even be here if not for Decan Carthwright.
The Decan in question happened to be in his room at this time, soundly sleeping away the dangers and colds of this harsh winter night. The man was oblivious to the writings of Father Learing, or the soldiers downstairs, drinking away their meagre earnings on bad ale and even worse food. Like most lands, this tiny, northern village felt the strangle of the war and the harsh times. The food here happened to be despicable. Father Learing had eaten better in the homes of the poorest of the poor, for at least their food had some kind of taste to it. The drivel here tasted like ash in his mouth and barely filled the empty space in his stomach. The meals they had received on their travels had been no different and Father Learing knew he had lost a substantial amount of weight over the last three weeks. The robes he wore no long clung to his already small frame, instead they hung off him like dead weight, some ironic twist really.
Scraping the legs of the chairs against the old, splintered wood of the floor, Father Learing rose and stretched his tired muscles. Five days they had been here, five day. Hopefully they would leave soon. Hopefully they’d find what they needed soon. As long as he could go back to the city it didn’t matter to him. Most of this war didn’t matter to him. He only found himself on one side of it because of his faith and his position. Some say he should be more passionate about fighting and defending that faith and religion. He just thought his time better spent elsewhere. No one else needed to know that, especially the church.
Moving across the barren room, Father Learing carried his lamp and set it down on the stained table by the bed. He ripped back the blankets and beat at the straw mattress, trying to drive out any bugs that might think this place such a haven. In the end he never did get them all and woke up twice during the night to feel their tiny, sharp teeth piercing into his skin. He could only beat at the mattress and roll over, going back to sleep and ignoring the boisterous sounds from downstairs. The man of faith started to pray then, to give those soldiers a headache unlike any other.
-----------------------------------------
As it happened, those soldiers were oblivious to the spiteful prayers of the Father above them, too enraptured they were by a small, red headed girl and the tale she told them. She had a certain amount of appeal to her, especially with that fiery red hair of hers and golden eyes. She just happened to be too slim for his tastes. He preferred his women to feel soft underneath him. This one would feel like bones, besides she looked so frail any man would worry about hurting her.
“You were really involved in the NWO war against Imperial?” Aesics asked as he looked over her puny form thoughtfully. She didn’t look bad; she just looked like a child, though he knew she must be older than that considering the Tavern let her drink.
“Of course I was!” She told him in the high and smoothly accented voice of hers.
He noticed she only sounded like a child when she became excited by something, otherwise her voice actually reflected a woman who had the experience of a few years. Maybe it had something to do with her race. She certainly didn’t even try or pretend to be human, in fact he’d have to be blind and stupidly drunk not to notice the shimmering wings accompanying her back.
“I was in charge of half the Imperial army when we were transported to a pre-arranged arena—that happened to be a frozen lake with some ancient citadel ruins on it, kind of fitting in a way. Anyway, the whole thing quickly erupted into chaos and I realized that Godhand and Jame Kaosi were on the NWO team. Of course I co—”
“You know Godhand and Jame Kaosi?” Aesics asked, completely dumbfounded.
Now he knew she had to be lying to him. No one knew those two. They were legends. Men told stories about seeing their shadows in the crowded streets of Radasanth, but no one boasted knowing them. And no one boasted about being in the NWO wars. Still, her story intrigued him and he didn’t really want her to stop. It just seemed like such a fable. How could this young woman have been involved in a war? Maybe she was a mage and had access to vast amounts of power he could only dream of. In that case, he better be careful around her.
“Yeah, I met up with Jame in Concordia, when we were trapped in an ancient and evil village that wanted to eat our souls and I met Godhand when I saved his life.”
Aesics’ just nodded his head and looked over to Drascin who hadn’t said much of anything since this woman had joined them. In fact he mostly just kept staring at her, watching all of her movements as if he were trying to find something.
“So when I realized that Godhand and Jame were part of NWO, I knew I couldn’t really fight against them, well not really.” She paused and took a long drink from her mug, making Aesics wonder how her small frame could hold so much alcohol. “Luckily they were fighting away from me for pretty much the entire ordeal so I didn’t have to do battle with them. I did attack a rather cute looking man with sharp teeth named Dan Lagh’ratham though.”
Drascin almost choked on his ale.
“And you lived to talk about it?” The soldier’s rough voice spat out.
“Yep, he said I wasn’t worth the trouble and left me alone. The whole battle went by rather quickly though. In the end I didn’t do much other than heal Godhand and distract a few people, but Godhand seemed rather appreciate of me being there, so as long as I helped it’s the only thing that mattered. I did come away with a bruised jaw though. I slid into and tackled some old man who happened to be attacking my bodyguard. After I knocked him down he punched me across the face, it really hurt and Godhand didn’t seem too happy about it when he found out.”
Aesics didn’t really know what to make of her story. The old man she mentioned must be Teric Bloodrose. He had been the only ‘old man’ in that war. For someone up there in the years, he was quite nimble and strong, and apparently didn’t have any qualms about hitting women according to her. If she had been part of Imperial, she seemed not to care at all that they had lost the battle, instead she seemed thrilled that NWO had won. Could he even believe what she told him? The whole thing seemed highly unlikely, though she appeared to know everyone that was there. Maybe it had happened. He knew stranger things went on in Althanas.
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