Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/Deathwyrm the Delicate
The early morning sun cast long shadows into the city of Talex. At the Eastern Gate stood a man.
Tall, broad, muscular. A rugged, close-shaved face; scarred, one ear a twisted, misshapen mess. Forearms like those of a blacksmith, shoulders like a bull.
"Since the day yer mother pushed ya out into this world," Lars Tomarsen said, "I've been waiting fer this moment."
He studied his son before continuing.
"I fed ya raw goat meat since ya were yeah-high, but not an once of it stuck ta yer ribs."
"I served ya proper mead since ya were five years old ta build yer tolerance fer booze, but still ya pukes on yer second beer."
"I made ya sleep every night on the roof, rain er shine, winter er summer,ta build up yer constitution, but still ya get sick from the slightest draft."
"I gave ya a name ta make men fear ya, and still ya've never won a fistfight."
"I gave ya a wooden sword fer yer first an only toy, ta make a warrior out a ya, and still ya'd rather...". He swallowed the rest of his sentence.
"Yer a complete and total disappointment to me. I don't know whose seed yer from - yer mother's an honest woman, but it can't be mine. The Aenil must have switched ya at birth."
"Well, now yer Duchess needs ya. This is yer chance ta make something of yerself. Get out there, and don't come back til yer a hero, er yer dead."
With that, he turned his back and marched off toward the center of the town.
Dragonwyrm watched him leave. His father was right, he knew - he was the most unsuitable swordsman in the realm. Well, that would change! Starting now, he would be tough and mean, a warrior to the core.
He would start by fighting side by side with the Duchess in Larmebsi. He mounted his horse and, calling his men to follow, heaed off to join in the battle in the neighboring region. -
Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)
Battle! He had been in a battle! In the front ranks - the men had even charged in the right direction, and everything.
Deathwyrm thrilled at the battle report. There they were, right in the center of the line, smashing through the enemy militia, chasing down the archers...why, they had even had a successful loot!
He was about to reach for a pen and parchment, to tell his father the good news, when he saw a name.
"Oh, no!" he groaned. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no! What is she doing here?"
Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)
"Yes, good, good!" Deathwyrm said gleefully. "We'll show them we know how to loot!"
"Uhm...sire..." he sergeant said, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Yes, and that sign there, with the lovely cat wearing those boots..bring theat, too, if you please."
"Sire...uhm..."
"What is it, man? Can't you see we're...Oh. Where did they come from?" Deathwyrm stared at the angry mob. "Uhm, okay...let's move out..."
Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)
Deathwyrm's brow furrowed.
He was quite sure he was supposed to be moving to Erahol. He knew that if he tried to turn around now and head off in a different direction, he would be caught in Ornaz by the incoming troops.
"Best to keep going," he reasoned.
He also wondered who had attempted to loot after the peasant mob had appeared.
"What a yipyog!" he said, in the Talex dialect.
Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)
