New Beginnings (Part 2)

[Caellach]

For some reason when I copy and pasted this from Word some of the dashes stayed as long em dashes, and some were shortened to hyphens. I'm not positive how to do an em dash on here, so some were just left as two hyphens, I apologize for the inconsistency.
The streets of Underwood were alive with the constant hum of people going about their daily business. Hawkers cried their wares, customers haggled with merchants, children talked with their friends, and Caellach strode down the road mesmerized. Such a scene would seem commonplace to most people, but he had never been in a city any larger than his small village, Lorenwood. Most of the buildings and shops and stalls around him were constructed of simple wood, with only the occasional stone store of a rich merchant. Caellach eyed the wares of all the stalls he passed, amazed at all the goods on display.

In his village, if someone needed something crafted, he or she visited the craftsman and paid for the work to be done. Here it seemed one could find anything and everything already made and for sale. Caellach was tempted to buy multiple items he didn’t need – new clothes, armor, food, and more – but did not want to waste his gold. He smiled and shook his head politely before continuing on if a hawker ever looked up. No plan for the day had been formed that morning; the young swordsman simply sauntered down the streets, enjoying the bustle of the city.

A massive stone building lay before him. The sign that hung outside identified the structure as the town hall. It was also where Caellach would apply to be a guard. He had made up his mind that he would join the guard temporarily, but he had not meant to do so today. Today he had simply intended to relax, but now that the building was in front of him he knew there was no way he would enjoy the rest of the day. Solemnly, he made his way slowly to the door of the building. He happened to glance sideways as he grasped the door handle, and stopped mid motion.

Directly across the street was a stall selling fabrics and clothes, and behind the counter was a woman Caellach knew very well. Realizing he was in the way of people trying to enter the town hall, he quickly muttered his apologies to those around him and made his way across the street to the shop. It was a simple affair, with a counter, awning above for shade, and racks several feet behind the counter for wares.

[Caellach]

“Brother!” his sister cried in astonishment; it was clear she was just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

“Celia! How in the world did you end up here in Underwood?” Caellach asked confusedly. His village had only ever traded with surrounding towns and hamlets before, not sold their wares in large cities. At least, that was how it used to be. He had been away a long time.

“I might ask the same of you, younger brother! Foolish child, don’t you know you how much we worried about you? You’re no Sentinel whatever you think -- it’s not safe for you to travel alone!”

Caellach clenched his jaw and forced himself not to reply harshly. Celia was older than him by nearly five years, but seemed to frequently forget how old Caellach was himself. He had been stung by her comment about the Sentinels. He had left the village because he did not think he could be one of the Sentinels -- warriors that protected his town from thieves and the like -- not because he thought he was. He swallowed his resentment at being treated like a child and instead focused on being happy to see his sister.

He replied simply, “I have grown since I last saw you, sister. I am no child, and I am no Sentinel. I came here to look for possible employment… It seems you’re here for similar reasons.” He gestured towards the array of clothes surrounding the dark haired woman.

It was not hard to tell the two were siblings; not only did they share the same hair and eye color, but their facial contours were quite similar. She was a beautiful woman, but her elegance did not lessen her ability to look menacing and overbearing as she glared at her younger brother. However, at Caellach’s reply her expression softened slightly.

“Grown, you say? I suppose you have, brother. You wouldn’t be one to buy such a thing without slaying the beast yourself,” she said, indicating the wolf pelt cloak Caellach now wore. The trace amounts of anger finally faded from her voice as she explained, “the roads from village to village are no longer safe, and it’s impractical to send Sentinel escorts for such small affairs. Instead, most of the craftsmen are now creating their goods in mass, and travelling in one large caravan to larger cities to sell their goods throughout the week.”

Caellach furrowed his brow. “Unsafe? More thieves as of late?”

“Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “The guard in cities such as this is too well organized for any petty gang of thieves to prey on larger cities, but our small village and the other surrounding towns are easy targets. Not only that, but Daryn has joined their number, he was caught-“

Caellach interrupted her, anger and disbelief filling his voice as he said, “That can’t be! Daryn wouldn't betray Lorenwood. Surely you jest!?”

His sister frowned and shook her head.

“Don’t kill the messenger, Caellach,” she replied, now with a slightly sympathetic tone. “He was caught selling some of the towns’ arms to thieves. It was an odd circumstance; he knew better than to be found by a group of patrolling Sentinels… But whatever his reasoning, he slew one of the town guards before retreating with the thieves. It's almost as if he wanted us to know of his betrayal, since he allowed the other two Sentinels to escape. We believe he’s been leading most of the raids on our trading caravans – he’s certainly familiar with the terrain and surrounding hamlets.”

“I… Surely there’s some mistake, he’s…” Caellach began, but trailed off. In his blind adoration of the man Caellach had always thought everything his trainer had ever done had been necessary. But looking back now at some of the things the man had done, Caellach could not deny the Sentinel occasionally had crossed over the line to simply being cruel. Daryn was not at all hesitant to humiliate a student, or anyone else for that matter. He hadn’t seemed like a truly sadistic person, but he was far from being a saint. “Are there enough Sentinels that you’ll be able to get home safely?” he asked, fighting his emotions, trying to change the subject.

Celia made no attempt to stop her eyes from rolling. “Of course there are, brother. I’m not the one who leaves the village all by himself to face the world alone. But if you feel the need to personally escort me, I’m sure everyone back home would be pleased to see you. Well, except for farmer Talbitt, he still thinks you stole those carrots years ago.”

“That was Lyle I swear!” Caellach said, momentarily forgetting himself.

The mysterious disappearance of the carrots had been an event of mock importance back home, and was the subject of many a joke. However, the ephemeral respite from his mental troubles did not last. Only seconds after his reply he was already trying to force thoughts of Daryn out of his head again.

“Whatever you say,” his sister replied, giggling. “Regardless, the offer still stands. I have enough goods to last me another week but the other merchants from home are likely already out, so we’ll be returning soon.”

Caellach was suddenly more aware of all the clothes – he had noticed them before but had been distracted by seeing his sister – and admired the many different styles and colors.

“I see you’re still very good with the loom.”

His sister smiled, and in an attempt to help divert his thoughts she replied, “you’re welcome to try something on; it looks like you haven’t changed in months.”

“Years,” Caellach corrected. He had washed his clothes of course, but had not bought new ones since leaving his town. “But I’m fine with what I have. Besides, I don’t have much gold; I need to spend it sparingly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t make my own brother pay for a shirt! Come on you fool, this red one will look perfect on you. I made it from good fabric too; it’ll even provide you with a little protection.”

Caellach chuckled. “I’m glad you’re so confident in my ability to get stabbed.”

“Don’t make me start calling you a child again! I only want to protect my little brother. Now then, remove your shirt and try this one on. Unless you’re too chickenshit to strip in public that is…” She smiled playfully; she was not trying to insult.

Caellach shook his head. “That is a fine shirt; it will fetch a nice price. Keep it for a noble, not some rogue like me.”

Before his sister could reply, a tall dwarf approached the counter. Well, tall for a dwarf, Caellach thought, looking down towards the slightly balding head of the potential customer.

“I hate to interrupt the touching conversation,” the dwarf said, his deep voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I’d like to actually conduct business, if that is all right with you.”

Caellach had to fight the urge to rebuke the dwarf sharply for speaking to his sister so rudely; he did not want to hurt her business, but was still protective of her, despite her being his senior.

“I hope I will see you again someday, Celia,” he said solemnly as he left, nodding and giving her a meaningful gaze. The departure left her with no time to reply; Caellach was not one for tearful goodbyes.

[Caellach]

Mind reeling with the knowledge of Daryn's betrayal, Caellach made his way back to the inn he was staying in. The conversation with his sister replayed over and over in his mind. He still could not truly believe his old teacher would have turned to crime and thievery, but his sister would not have played such a cruel joke. It must be true, he thought gloomily. Continuing down the mess of streets, lost in his thoughts – and nearly getting lost in the streets, too – he made his way slowly to the inn.

When Caellach reached the inn, he no longer intended to stay the night, or to join the guard, or even to stay in Underwood. He had made up his mind; he would return to his village. Or at least near the town; he had not yet made up his mind whether he would actually enter.

Of two things he was sure: first, he would not return with the merchant caravan, and second, he would kill Daryn Featherblade. He thrust any remaining feelings he had for his trainer out of his mind; if the man truly posed a threat to his village and his family, Caellach would end the man’s life or die trying. He would not regret his decision.

He entered the inn only long enough to retrieve the bow and arrows he had left in the room and to thank the inn keeper. The man had been kind enough to let Caellach stay two nights in exchange for the meat of a wolf Caellach had slain, and seemed genuinely sorry to see Caellach go. However, none of his offers could stop Caellach now that the swordsman had made up his mind. With one final nod to the portly establishment owner, he exited the inn.

[Caellach]

His village was small, but he was sure at least one of the guards at the gate would know the general direction in which it lay. Caellach remembered the forest around his town well enough that he would be able to find the way by himself once he was close.
As he reached the gate he asked one of the guards, who quickly nodded and gave directions. A very short man, the guard seemed to be very amiable and did not appear to mind having to look upwards at everyone around him.

“Lorenwood? Aye, I know of it. Friend o’ mine hails from there. It lies just a little east of north from’ere… Usually I tell people to follow this’ere road till they see a giant, crooked oak tree. Dead and gray, y’know, makes a good landmark; ye gotta go west a ways from there, nearly half a day. Stout lad like yourself, though, I’d wager you can save some time by following a brook not far from’ere.”

The guard took a brief pause, seeming to sort of mentally confirm Caellach was able-bodied enough, but Caellach took the opportunity to try to speed him up a bit. The guard seemed to be taking a long time to go anywhere important in his directions.

“A brook you say? Any time saved would be much appreciated, I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Caellach offered, trying to expedite the conversation.

“Then the brook it is. Head off a wee bit to the side of the road and you should find it. After you follow it for a few days it will curve sharply. Keep going straight ahead and you should find the village not long after.”

Caellach thought he probably knew the brook the guard was talking about if it was that close to Lorenwood, but he hadn’t realized it went all the way to Underwood. He strode off on the course the guard had described, sun just barely beginning to fall in the sky.

[Caellach]

It had not taken Caellach a long time to find the stream. The sun streamed downwards on the swordsman's back, unhindered by heavy foliage. The path he had followed had not yet taken him deep into the woods and the bright blue sky was easily visible above him. He continued along the small river until the sun set, made camp, and then set off the next day early in the morning.

He was no stranger to surviving in the wild; he had done it for almost four years. Simple camps were made at night, and erased before the young warrior moved on. Lost in his thoughts, he almost did not notice the brook suddenly curving sharply to the east. He realized he must be close to his village, and began looking around at his surroundings as he forged on ahead, leaving the stream behind.

Sure enough, he found himself in a familiar part of the wood before long, and guessed he was not even an hour away from his town. He was struck by a sudden urge to go home, to see his parents, and to leave his life of solitude. Shaking his head he told himself it had to wait, that perhaps after he dealt with Featherblade he would return. [I]If I’m still alive[I], he thought morbidly.

He was not afraid of death. He had accepted that this was something he wanted to do, had to do; while he certainly favored one outcome, he did not fear the other. Usually not a tremendously confident person, Caellach was emboldened by the knowledge he had no one to protect but himself in this venture.

As he came nearer to the village, Caellach stopped and began looking for a suitable place to make camp. He was unlikely to be found by either Sentinels or thieves in this particular area, but he sought a camping place where he would be partially sheltered from onlookers nonetheless. It did not take long before he found an especially overgrown section, with bushes and trees forming two natural walls. He piled leaves for a bed, brought wood for a fire, and then set about making other preparations.

[Caellach]

The sun was already low in the sky; he estimated he had only a couple hours of sunlight at most. He had crafted a new string for his bow less than a week ago, and decided it was still supple enough to be used. However, he had almost run out of arrows due to daily hunting. He set about looking for exceptionally straight twigs and small branches, carrying them under his arm as he walked. When he had collected ten he returned to camp and unsheathed his sword. He laid the formidable iron blade in his lap, holding it with one hand and using the sharp edge to fix any imperfections in the arrows with the other.

When he was satisfied with the virgate shafts he slowly and carefully split the wood down the middle for a few inches on one side of each of the arrows. He removed ten feathers he had kept from yesterday’s kill, and slid a feather into each arrow. They were not the best arrows he had ever made, but they would serve for now; the feathers were not likely to come out in just one shot, but they were likely not reusable. He sharpened the ends slightly against the edge of his blade, but did not spend much time in the task. Channeling a small amount of frost magic to his finger tips, he formed sharp points on each of his fingers as he thought with a wry grin: I have other ways to make arrow tips.

He sheathed his blade and put the arrows into his quiver, before taking both items off, along with his bow. Lying down on his makeshift bed of leaves, sword close at hand, he decided he would try to fall asleep early so as to be fully ready on the morrow.

Sleep did not come as easily as he wished, but it came nonetheless. For once he slept untroubled by dreams; his sense of purpose filled him with a serene calm. As he woke, he gathered his equipment swiftly in the darkness, and destroyed evidence of his camp. He had ended up sleeping without a fire, and now he scattered the few logs he had amassed the night before. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, but it was still very cold.

Caellach, however, did not feel the chill. He headed towards his village until he could see it in the distance – many of the trees had been felled and the forest allowed one to see farther than normal here. Now, time to find him...

[Caellach]

Walking in a wide circle around the town, he looked all around for signs of habitation. It did not take him long to find an old camp fire near one of the roads leading from the village; the thieves had likely camped near the dirt path and laid in wait the next day.

He knew there was a cave relatively nearby, and thought that was likely to be the thieves’ current hideout. By the time he was nearing the cave the sun was high enough in the sky to provide a fair amount of light. He scrambled up into a tree, and moved along on a branch until he had a decent view of the cave entrance.

Only one guard was visible, and he seemed half asleep. He was likely the only one, as the vagabonds would not be expecting any hostile company. Caellach drew his bow and an arrow.

He fed magical energy into the tip of the arrow, forming a sharp cone of ice on the end, and then nocked the arrow. Calmly drawing the arrow all the way back to his cheek, Caellach took aim. Waiting would have no adverse effect on the situation, but if his shot missed his target would surely sound an alarm.

Sighting along the arrow, he aimed towards the top of the thief’s head. He let go of the arrow, and it soared from his bow. It had been a near perfect shot; the arrow dropped a little less than a foot and pierced the ruffian’s throat. Caellach couldn’t tell for sure if the thief was dead as the vagabond toppled over, but the attack had left its target with no means to shout for help.

After clambering down from the tree, he began moving as quickly and as quietly as he could toward the now unguarded entrance. No master of stealth, his boots made crunching noises on dead leaves as he walked, but he was able to avoid snapping any twigs.

He reached the downed thief quickly and glanced down. The thief’s glazed over eyes showed he was no longer among the living. Without hesitating Caellach entered the cave, moving slowly to avoid making much noise.

[Caellach]

As a boy, this had been one of Caellach’s favorite places to explore. He knew there were four “rooms,” with small tunnels between each. It was unclear whether the rock-encased domes were man-made or natural formations, but Caellach guessed people had likely lived there in the past. Coming up to a corner before the first room, it was plain from the moving designs of light on the stone walls and the heavy smell of smoke that multiple fires were burning inside. While the other three rooms had higher ceilings, the rock was only about a foot above Caellach's head in this room. A gradual slope in the tunnel leading out allowed smoke from fires to waft outward, instead of pooling or going deeper into the cave.

As Caellach slowly turned the corner he saw there was only one person in the room, tending to pots over three fires. She looked scared. {I]So that’s what the guard was for.[/I]

He turned back and leaned against the wall, out of sight, planning the next course of action. He did not recognize the girl, but she likely came from a nearby village, possibly even his. He did not want to harm her if possible.

The girl would probably escape without giving Caellach up if given the chance, but Caellach was not sure how to approach her without alarming her. He considered just walking in and acting like one of the thieves, hoping she would make no sound, but decided he did not want to scare her.

Taking a deep but silent breath, he turned back around the corner. The girl was still alone. He raised his left hand to show it was unarmed, and then lightly tapped the wall next to him with his right to get her attention. He put his right hand up, and then as the girl looked up he slowly moved his right hand in front of his mouth in a gesture for silence. The tall brunette looked confused, but made no noise. Caellach moved forward quickly but not hostilely, keeping his hands up to show he meant no harm.

None of the other rooms could directly see into this one, and he made his way to the middle of the room, towards the girl. She’s not half bad, he thought as he sized her up, but quickly put the distraction out of his mind. She had backed up a bit, but seemed slightly less scared.

“I am from Lorenwood. I have come to kill the men holding you here -- the guard outside is dead, go quickly but quietly,” he whispered.

The girl was still shocked, but nodded her assent and began to make her way out; obviously she had fantasized about being rescued and now likely moved without much thought, amazed her dreams had come true. Caellach watched her go, and then continued towards the tunnel in front of him.

There was a room to his left, but as he recalled it was rather small and was likely being used to store supplies. The room he was about to enter was the largest in the cave, and he figured that would be where most of the thieves would be sleeping.

[Caellach]

He took a breath and stalked forward quietly until he was close enough to peek around the wall and glance into the room. There were four men gathered around a small, badly-crafted wooden table. They appeared to be looking at some kind of map, and none looked up.

Caellach drew his bow as quietly as possible, but as he nocked the arrow and drew it back one of the thieves heard and looked up. No time to form a sharp tip, Caellach aimed at the alerted ruffian’s neck, hoping the slight wooden tip would pierce the soft flesh.

The shot had been taken rapidly, and his aim was off – luckily the arrow ended up striking the shocked man in the forehead. It did not appear to pierce his skull but the thief fell over, stunned from the sudden impact.

By now the other three lawless men had risen, weapons in hand. None appeared to have any armor, just heavy cloth tunics of dirty brown, but the metal in their hands was sharp and deadly. One had a crude battle-axe, another a short blade, and the third had both a razor and a strange sort of small scythe or hook.

The bow fell to the ground with a clatter as Caellach dropped it and drew his sword. The tunnel would serve to limit how many foes he faced at one time, but he decided it would be too difficult to attack with his longsword in the confined space.

The floor was mostly dirt, not stone, providing Caellach with the footing for quick movements. He rushed forward and brought his sword down in a broad arc towards the man on the left with the battle axe. The large axe was too bulky to block the attack, so the thief leaped sideways to dodge it.

However, he ended up tripping over one of his partners and toppled to the floor. Caellach parried an attack from the thief with the short sword, then lost no time in countering with his own thrust at the man’s heart. The cutpurse jumped back to evade, and the ruffian with two weapons jumped forward, slashing with both armaments.

Taking his left hand off his sword, Caellach deftly grabbed the amateur’s right arm, and blocked the other weapon away with the lower part of his sword. He then pulled the thief forwards and to the side, knocking him off balance.

With a flourish of his blade he brought the sword around and into the back of the man, piercing almost all the way to the hilt. By now the axe wielder had recovered to his feet, and the one Caellach had stunned with an arrow was reaching for a heavy mace across the room. Caellach knew he had to kill one of them quickly; he would not be able to last long against all three, no matter how inept they were.

[Caellach]

The young swordsman found himself with no time to withdraw his sword and let the carcass drop to the ground. He grabbed the remaining eight arrows in his quiver and held them up as the thief with the short sword slashed.

The blade bit into the soft wood, but was not heavy enough to cut all the way through. Caellach brought his left arm under the blade and then blocked it away, connecting only with the flat of the sword. He then swiftly punched the thief in the face, causing him to stagger backwards.

He grabbed his sword – sticking upwards out of the fallen vagabond’s carcass – and spun around to block an attack from the axe. However, he only had one hand on the blade and couldn’t completely stop the crescent edged weapon from digging into his left shoulder.

He cried out in pain, then in a flurry of rage slashed wildly upwards and outwards towards the front of the thief’s neck. The blade struck hard, cutting nearly halfway through the soft flesh. Blood sprayed out from the heavy wound, and the man had only time to reach his hands up and fall over before he died.

The cutpurse with the short sword had been showered by the bright red liquid just as he was preparing to attack again, stalling him momentariyl. The battle axe had not pierced deeply into Caellach’s shoulder, and had slid off as the attacker had fallen.

Caellach grunted and clenched his teeth, preparing to defend against the mace wielder who was now charging towards the lone swordsman. The thief was not very skilled, and Caellach would have easily parried the attack, were he not suddenly distracted.

[Caellach]

Daryn Featherblade had entered the room from the back. The tall man now stood on the opposite side of the domed room from the fracas, watching the conflict with a stony, almost indifferent face. Anyone with the slightest bit of intelligence would have likely have clobbered Caellach over the head with the thief’s heavy mace, momentarily distracted as the young swordsman was.

However, the untrained and not terribly bright man instead lunged out with the blunt weapon, towards Caellach’s abdomen. Caellach fell over, and found it difficult to breath – the attack had knocked the wind out of him. While the charge might have worked on an equally untrained merchant or traveler, Caellach was quick to get back to his feet and force himself to breath.

Ignoring Daryn for now, Caellach parried an attack from the short sword and then lashed out at the thief wielding the mace. His attack was blocked, but he fluidly brought the blade back up and swung at the other swordsman instead. The sword connected with the man’s left arm and with a shout the thief dropped his weapon to clutch at the gash.

The club wielder had gotten too close; Caellach was able to easily turn and bodily shove the thief over with his shoulder. Trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder and the throb in his abdomen, he grasped his sword in both hands and brought the iron blade over his head, and then downwards towards the skull of the man with the wounded arm.

The metal dug deep into the bandit’s head, and Caellach pushed him over with a swift kick to the chest. The mace wielder had recovered, but now Caellach faced only one opponent, for the time being.

He glanced at Daryn, still standing with his arms crossed across the room, and then turned his attention back to the other thief. The cutpurse managed to deflect two attacks, but even with minor wounds Caellach was obviously superior to the man in combat prowess.

The ruffian did not last much longer, and Caellach finished him off with a stab in the heart. Caellach did not take great pleasure in killing, but he also did not feel any remorse for the criminals.

[Caellach]

Daryn was still unarmed, but Caellach did not sheath his blade. Caellach was good with a sword, but he was no Sentinel. Even the worst among the town guards could draw their weapon and attack in the blink of an eye, usually with deadly effect.

He took a few cautious steps across the room and stopped, sword held with two hands out in front of him. He had thought long and hard about what he would say to the man, but now that he was actually in front of him only one word escaped his mouth.

“Why?” he asked, trying with effort to keep his voice void of emotion.

“Life was boring, boy. No women, no drink, and not even fucking gratitude from the people I protected. The only fun I had was humiliating novices and slaying these pathetic thieves. Switching sides has brought me more gold than I could possibly use, try as I might every time I visit a city. It’s not a bad life, you should consider it.”

Daryn spoke with a bored, gravelly voice. Daryn was tall, with heavy muscles all over his body, especially on his upper arms. He had short, spiky, dark gray hair and brown eyes that were so dark they appeared black from more than a few feet away. His fierce gaze was met by an equally strong stare from Caellach.

“Never. I once admired you, Featherblade, but I see now you are no more than common filth. Better trained, but filth nonetheless. It is time for you to die.”

Caellach had hoped Daryn would somehow redeem himself, and explain everything. Now it was apparent that was not going to happen. The younger swordsman was not sure if Daryn had undergone some drastic change, or if he had just never showed his true nature to the villagers before. It does not matter.

“Featherblade? That name is no longer mine; you are in the presence of Daryn the Bloodletter. Alas, when I saw you I hoped I might have found myself a competent partner. We could go far, much farther than the worthless men you slew. It is too bad you have chosen to be so righteous, child, for it will be your undoing. My time to die? I fear that is not the case. I think I will enjoy killing you, boy. You might pose a little more of a challenge than the usual rabble I slay.”

Caellach forced himself to remain calm. The cloth of his tunic was soaked with blood around his shoulder, but the pain had lessened slightly, and the bruise on his stomach wasn’t very bad. He gripped his blade firmly, and advanced on the Bloodletter.

The aging ex-Sentinel drew twin blades with incredible speed, and spun both blades in his hands in delicate flourishes. The short swords were shiny and sharp, and flowed with flawless fluidity in Daryn’s deft hands. However, after one last twirl, the older swordsman sheathed one of the swords.

“Surely you must be tired from such hard work,” Daryn mumbled mockingly. “I’ll give you a little handicap.”

Caellach’s sword flashed out as he sprinted towards the other man, slashing with all his might. The Bloodletter parried the blow easily as he sidestepped, and with a quick flick of his blade he gave Caellach a light cut on his right arm.

“Hmph. I expected more from you,” Daryn said disappointedly.

[Caellach]

Caellach wasted no time and attacked again and again, but all of his attacks met the cold metal of Daryn’s single blade. Seeing his current plan was futile, Caellach took a step back to regroup. He began to move his blade to a defensive position, but then quickly lashed out once more.

Surprised, Daryn could not fully block the attack, and the blade left a long cut on the middle of his chest. It was not serious, but at least Caellach had hit him.

“I guess I was wrong,” the Bloodletter said, a hint of a smile forming on his face.

Caellach now brought his sword to a parrying position with the intent to actually defend this time, and Daryn wasted no time in launching a salvo of attacks. Caellach was hard pressed to parry all the attacks, but he managed to sustain no further major injuries. The cut on his arm stung but had not been intended to cause real harm. The blades met in a crash as Daryn slashed once more, then he disengaged his blade under Caellach’s, and slashed from the other side, each time meeting the younger swordsman’s parries.

A brief look of annoyance flashed across the older man’s face, and he stopped attacking for a fraction of a second while he reached for his second blade. Caellach swung his sword, trying to catch Daryn while he grabbed his other sword, but the ex-Sentinel was too quick, and managed to bring both blades up to block the attack. The Bloodletter began a new series of attacks, twice as fast now that he had two swords. Caellach was forced to give up a lot of ground as he retreated, taking small cuts and gashes from the slashes he was unable to parry.

Caellach had not known he could move his sword so quickly, but found himself able to block most of the incoming attacks. Before he reached the wall, he stopped his retreat, parried a thrust, then lunged out towards the older fighter. The man was not able to jump completely out of the way, and Caellach’s blade slid across the side of Daryn's legs as he tried to dodge in midair. It was not deep enough to hinder movement, but it would surely hurt.

[Caellach]

By now Caellach was tiring rapidly; he had dispatched four men with his sword, and sustained many small cuts from Daryn’s ceaseless attacks. He drew on all his reserves as he began his own combination of attacks. He brought his sword around and slashed at the other swordsman’s neck, then slashed again at his flank, then thrust at the man’s chest.

The second slash had dug into Daryn’s side, but the others were completely parried. The combat continued on, each swordsman alternating attacking and defending, each giving and then retaking ground, each taking small hits but nothing major. A flurry of slashes would be followed by a salvo of quick ripostes; a tumult of lunges would be met by barrage of parries. The two swordsman's blades moved like needles sewing an intricate garment -- but instead of needles stitching cloth, cold steel was rending flesh.

It was apparent the Bloodletter was beginning to fatigue. He was older than Caellach by at least thirty some years, and both he and Caellach knew that he would not be able to last as long as Caellach. Thus, when Caellach lunged towards Daryn, the older swordsman brought his swords up in a defensive X shape, pushing Caellach's blade up above his head. Then the Bloodletter smashed the blade as hard as he could with one short sword, pushing Caellach’s sword off to the side, leaving the younger swordsman’s chest vulnerable.

With a quick thrust the other short sword found its way into the Caellach’s chest. It was on Caellach’s right side, so it did not pierce his heart, but the blade sunk all the way to the hilt. Caellach gasped as the blade slid through his chest and out his back, too shocked to yell or shout in pain. The agony was so intense Caellach nearly lost consciousness, but with extreme effort the young swordsman fought to stay lucid.

He still had a purpose to fulfill. Finally summoning the energy and breathe, he let loose a tremendous roar as he grabbed his sword with both hands and brought it down as hard as he could towards the Bloodletter’s neck. The older swordsman had not expected a counter attack, and was left unable to block.The blade connected and sliced all the way through the older man’s neck. A look of shock had crossed the face before it was severed and fell to the floor. The headless torso collapsed to its knees before falling backwards, away from Caellach.

The sword was still in Caellach’s chest, but Caellach paid no attention to it. He had killed Daryn the Bloodletter. He had done what he had come to do, and now he let himself fall to the floor. He knew his death was imminent. His last thoughts before he lost consciousness were of his family, hoping they would be safer now that Daryn had been slain.

[Caellach]

He awoke in a plain bed, covered by heavy quilts.

He did not know where he was.

Am… I dead? This place… No… Why would I be here…?

He lost consciousness.

He awoke in the same plain bed, but was not covered by as many quilts.

He knew where he was.

He did not know why.

He lost consciousness once more.

[Caellach]

“Caellach… Caellach… Caellach!” a familiar voice called incessantly. Let me sleep…

Suddenly his head felt very cold and he woke all the way up. Opening his eyes, he was in the same room. His room.

The walls of his old room in his family’s house in his village surrounded him. Besides him was his sister, Celia, and upon his head was a cold, wet rag.

“Am… I… alive?” he asked feebly, forming the words with great difficulty.

Celia gasped in shocked and quickly reached down to hug him. He took a sharp breath in extreme pain and gave a small cry, and she quickly released him and began apologizing.

“Oh, Caellach, I didn’t… I’m so sorry, I was just so happy to hear your voice!” she said, tears forming in her eyes. She called out for their mother and father, and footsteps were audible as they came running.

Caellach lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“He… he was awake. He even spoke, but I guess it’s good for him to be sleeping again,” Celia explained disappointedly to her parents.

Her other brother, Crallyn, was out of the house, but there were already enough tears being shed in the room. Even her father, usually a stoic man, wept tears of joys. They all sat around him for hours, but it became apparent Caellach would be asleep for the night.

The next morning Caellach woke up without the rag. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw no one was in the room. He needed time to recover before he saw his family. He noticed with a start that he was wearing the fine red shirt his sister had tried to give him… how long ago? He had no idea how long he had been in and out of consciousness.

He could feel all of his wounds tightly bandaged under the shirt, but only the deeper ones still pained him. Of the bruise to his abdomen and many of the smaller cuts there was no trace, but the gash in his shoulder still throbbed. The pain in his chest was the worse. While he lay still it was not terrible, but the slightest movement and a wave of agony swept over his entire upper body.

Taking a deep breath he slowly clenched his fingers into a fist, and then raised his arms a little. He let the breath out and panted with exhaustion; he still could not move much, but at least he had confirmed he still had control of both arms.

He had thought he was going to die, and now he was alive. It was not clear how he had survived or gotten back to town, but he knew he must have been carried. The important thing was that Daryn was dead. With a slight smile, he allowed himself to fall back to sleep.

[Caellach]

The next time he woke he decided he was ready to see his parents again. With an effort he spoke loudly enough to be heard in adjacent rooms.

“I hope… you realize… that your… patient… is terribly hungry.”

He spoke with frequent pauses for breath, but from the rapid footsteps he knew he had been heard. Only his father came in.

“Caellach. It is good to see you alive, my son.”

His father was trying to keep a strong outward appearance, but Caellach could could tell the strength vanished not far under the surface.

“I could not stay…. not with… with the weight of Orson’s death… on my shoulders.”

Orson had been a much loved merchant and story teller that had died when his caravan was ambushed by thieves outside the town. Caellach and a Sentinel had been sent to guard the wagon, but both the Sentinel and Orson had been killed in the attack.

Caellach had barely escaped with his life, and while no one blamed him for either man’s death, he felt guilty nonetheless.

“I am glad to see you do not take pity on yourself, my son, but you can’t be so hard on yourself either. It was not your fault; it was a wonder you lived at all. In any case, your deeds at the cave west of town should cleanse your conscience of any guilt. You did a very heroic thing.”

“How… how did I get… back here?”

“A girl came running into the village, yelling about someone rescuing her from thieves. After calming her down the Sentinels found out she had come from the cave, and decided they would send help. They must have gotten there not long after the fight ended, as you hadn’t lost too much blood. They rushed you back, and you were bandaged up and treated by the Sirens.”

While the Sentinels were the warriors of the town, the Sirens were a small group of mages, mostly female.

“I… … Where’s mother?"

“Everyone is out but me; we didn’t think you would come back again for another day or two, but I stayed behind just in case. You’ve been sleeping for over a fortnight. Did you want food?”

“Oh. Yes, please… I’m afraid you’ll need to… help me eat.”

His father laughed, and told him he did not mind at all. He left and returned quickly with a plate of salted pork and vegetables. It was not much, but it would probably still be too much for Caellach to eat. He helped Caellach sit up a bit, propped up by pillows, and slowly fed the recovering swordsman until Caellach had had his fill.

Caellach realized suddenly that he no longer minded being back in the village. He felt trite thinking that he had redeemed himself, and didn’t really think of it that way anyways. It was more just that a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Just like how the “Bloodletter’s” head was lifted off his shoulders, he thought with a tinge of amusement, but fought down laughter. He knew laughing would hurt, and quickly shifted his mind elsewhere. At least I still find humor in things that aren’t very funny.

[Caellach]

It took Caellach another week before he was able to get out of bed. He enjoyed his family's company, and enjoyed being back in the village. But he would not stay long.

No, after only being in Underwood for a few short days Caellach knew that he would never settle down in Lorenwood again, at least not for any significant length of time. He wanted to see the world. Joining the Sentinels or taking up a craft was not appealing to the swordsman, despite having been paid a visit by the Sentinel leader trying to recruit him.

His shoulder no longer hurt, and had almost fully healed. The wound in his chest still throbbed now and then, but no longer heavily restricted his movement. He helped his sister weave during most of the day, since that required only the use of his feet and his hands mostly, and not large movements with his arm. He was happy here, but would not stay.

The thieves in the cave had had a large supply of weapons – it was apparent Caellach had managed to pick a time when many of the cutpurses were out of the cave – and the Sentinels had brought all of the armaments back. Many -- including the two short swords Daryn had used -- had been Sentinel weapons to begin with, sold to the thieves by Daryn. As Caellach acquired enough strength to walk the town he realized that almost all of the Sentinels now respected him; he could scarcely pass one without getting at least a nod or a kind word.

He realized as he watched the young men of the village training with the Sentinels that he was more confident in himself. Insecurity had been replaced with self assurance. In the course of one battle he had thoroughly matured, and while he was by no means arrogant, he no longer doubted his abilities. He had killed six men in total, more than many of the Sentinels even had. He had freed the woman in the cave, and he had done his village a great service. Back when he was as old as the trainees in the practice yard, he had never doubted himself. But ever since failing to protect Orson the merchant all those years ago, he had been filled with doubt and low self-esteem. That doubt was now gone, and it felt good. Very good.

The raids on merchant caravans had stopped for the time being; obviously Daryn had provided must needed leadership and organization to the motley crew of criminals, and without him they were not as big a threat.

He stayed in the village for almost a month, slowly recovering his strength and agility. He had been allowed to take the twin blades Daryn had fought with, and spent most of his time helping to train the younger men. Despite only being older then some by a few years, all of them seemed to have a deep-set reverence for him. Caellach found that practicing with the dual short swords was a good way of strengthening both of his slightly atrophied arms, and liked to use two wooden practice swords instead of one when helping the younger men. Flowing through different combat stances, shirtless torso drenched in sweat, he found a great source of solace in the simple task of practice.

However, once all his bandages had been taken off, and all his wounds but the one in his chest had fully healed, he decided it was time to leave. He would not steal off during the night as he had before; he had already talked to his family and many of the villagers that he knew about leaving.

He would not turn into a village legend, but he knew that when he returned he would certainly be remembered. That was enough for him; he did not have some vane need for glory and respect, but knowing that those he had helped would appreciate and remember what he had done gave him an immense feeling of satisfaction.

He did not know where he would go, or what he would do. But wherever he went, he would protect those who required safeguard, and help those who required aid.

[Caellach]

Spoils Requests:

This might be asking for too much, but here goes. I'll certainly understand if it's not all approved as it is quite a lot, though I'd appreciate it if you'd discuss what needs to be removed with me if I have a choice. ;)

Excellent Red Vlince Shirt: A shirt made of dark red cloth, it has a collar and reaches just a little below Caellach's waste. It has long sleeves, and provides Caellach with some protection against sharp weapons.

2x Above Average Steel Short Swords: These swords are approximately two feet long from pommel to tip. The blade is wider in the middle than at the hilt or tip, providing a bit of an oval shape. They have small cruciform hilts, and black leather wrapped around the handles.

Below Average Dual-wielding: From watching his rival and practicing, Caellach has learned the basics of attacking and defending with two light weapons. Any weapons are usable, as long as they are light and 1 handed. He is not yet very fast with this combat style, and being right handed his whole life he is hindered by a weaker left side.

Below Average Pain Tolerance: From experiencing the rather unpleasant feeling of having a sword rammed into his chest, but persevering long enough to counterattack, Caellach has learned to tolerate more pain than before. However, any extreme pain will greatly impair his abilities and not allow him to last much longer than an average person.

[Revenant]

Full rubric, full commentary requested.

STORY

Continuity (7) – I get nearly everything I need to know about your character from this thread. The only major exception is Caellach’s ice magic. From what I understand, he trained in a small town to be a town guard for most of his life. Where does the magic come into play? Were all of the guards taught minor magic to assist them? If so, why doesn’t Daryn know or use any magic? If not, then where in Caellach’s four years of wandering in the forest does he learn to use magic?

Setting (4) – Setting is more than just descriptions of scene, part of it is placement and distance. Caellach mentions that people from his village had only ever traded with surrounding towns and hamlets before, yet when it comes time to travel from Underwood to Lorenwood the trip takes a day and a half or so. Even without taking the direct route, I would imagine that your village would have been much more distant than that. Another point was the placement of the bandit’s cave. The Sentinels knew about the cave, it was close to town, and yet no one thought to check it for the bandits? That seems highly unlikely. It’s ok to say “the trip from Underwood to his home village took Caellach the better part of a week” or “there was a cave that Caellach knew about that was a day’s walk from Lorenwood”.

Pacing (5) – Your pace was decent overall, though there were two major hiccups that I felt. The first was your journey from Underwood to Lorenwood, which felt clipped, and the second was your fight scene, which felt choppy. I’ve already mentioned the travel. It can be difficult to write an engaging fight scene that flows well and pulls the reader along without becoming too mired down in the details.

CHARACTER

Dialogue (4) – Your dialogue felt too formal throughout this thread, as if everyone was talking like a proper highborn noble. Your character is a country boy who has been living in the woods by himself for the better part of four years. I’m not expecting to hear him talk like this:


”A brook you say? Any time saved would be much appreciated, I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

Action (4) – The fight scene was entertaining but it felt like it was almost the only bit of action in the thread. You walk through the market, grab your stuff, make camp, break camp, and then start the fighting. The only real elaboration put onto anything else is making your arrows, but even then you mention having shot a bird the previous day as a means to explain where the feathers came from without actually writing out a hunting scene. Little tidbits like that would go a long way to adding depth to the story.

Persona (4) –Like with your action score, the surface layer of emotion has been put down for your character, but you rarely go into anything below that. I would have liked to have felt more guilt and self-depreciation from Caellach from the beginning of the story through when he kills Daryn for example. It was a major theme for Caellach up to this point but it was only really alluded to after the fact. Does he have any excitement, nervousness, or agitation about returning home? The only feeling I got from him in that area was when he got within sight of Lorenwood.

WRITING STYLE

Technique (5) – Caellach had several themes going on in this thread that tie together, guilt, redemption, and belonging. Unfortunately, you barely scrape the surface of these. Similarly, there are some cliffhangers and elements of foreshadowing, but these are minor. You don’t do badly in this category, but this is another area where taking some time and putting some extra depth into your writing will really make it pop out.

Mechanics (6) – Some fairly blatant spelling mistakes throughout, as well as grammatical errors like improper comma usage and incorrectly formatted dialogue. For the most part it was well put together.

Clarity (5) – Adding accents to your writing can help to distinguish between speakers and adds an element of depth to characters, but it can also really disrupt the reader. Your conversation with the gate guard really forced me to stop to make sure that I understood what he was saying and was reading it correctly. Watch out for that.

WILD CARD

Wild Card (5) – An enjoyable read and good follow-up to your previous solo. The best advice I can give you is to slow your writing down and take your time to flesh out and elaborate on the details. You don’t have to start and finish a thread as soon as you can.

TOTAL: 49

Caellach receives 635 exp and 100 gp.

Spoils:
You can choose either of the following, but not both:
Red Vlince Shirt – You are awarded a red vlince shirt at above average quality, not excellent.
2x Steel Short Swords – You are awarded 2 steel short swords at average quality, not above average.

Below Average Dual-Wielding – Granted.
Below Average Pain Tolerance – Not granted.

[Silence Sei]

EXP-GP added, yo.

Welcome to the next level, C.