Thread: The Thief Who Only Borrows (DontxBlinkk)

Knight Commander Cain Rhainor had been the youngest of the commanding officers sent to the front lines of the great war. At twenty-four he was already in charge of his own legion, a thousand men under his command. Cain had quite a presence as a leader, standing six foot two and while he wasn't as big and brawny as some, any who underestimated him would be sorry they had. Some of them like to jest and make fun of his appearance though, his sturdy but lean build and attractive facial features making him seem unsuitable as a soldier. Of course the softness that had been in his green eyes, rather unmarred tan skin, and the kept style of his hair didn't help but eventually their opinions changed. He had been underestimated and even laughed at by the older more experienced combatants, from other countries and his own, but before long he made quite a name for himself as one of the most competent of them all. Skill and ability didn't determine everything in the war and everyone there eventually found that out, men killed, friends lost, and Cain was no exception to that eventuality. He had escaped such a fate longer than most but when it finally caught up to the young commander it was a fate no man deserved. His entire legion was ambushed by a larger force on the way from the main encampment to an outpost on their eastern flank. It had been a well placed ambush, so well that Cain hadn't noticed it before it was too late, before several thousand enemy soldiers converged on them as they went through a valley. Nearly every one of his men was slaughtered and by the end those who survived did so due solely to luck. Cain was one of the 'lucky' few but to him it was nothing but a curse, having to remember that battle, knowing he led them into the ambush no matter how well planned it had been, it was his fault. Cain hadn't gone back home immediately, he was assigned another force and resumed his command, his presence and decisions being the factor in many victories. In fact he seemed even more efficient than ever, but he didn't connect with his troops, he didn't speak to the other commanders, and he began to launch ruthless campaigns against the enemy forces, no longer showing the grace and compassion he once had. Those factors as well as the increasing strain on his body from injuries and continued combat forced the allied forces hand, the higher ranking commanders eventually deciding to give Cain an extended leave, using recovery as a reason. Cain of course did not want to return but he couldn't refuse the other commanders and soon enough he was on his way back to his kingdom, a changed man for sure. To make it worse he got message from the king, that he was to be honored as a hero, a massive feast in his honor. The long ride back had given him chance to think about a lot of the things that had happened and while he knew the king would see him as a hero, he wasn't. That didn't change what happened when he arrived back, welcomed by many with cheers and blessings. When he arrived at the castle it was more of the same, old faces welcoming him back, from soldiers to knights, and he was even called in to a personal audience with the king. He spoke to the man for awhile, having to tell some stories from the front lines and being told of the festivities that awaited him that night. Eventually he was allowed to leave, to head to a room in the barracks, informed that while the day would be free that the king wanted one of his finest back in action as soon as he could. Cain had expected as much, he was back to receive some downtime and recovery but he had been one of the go to knights before he left and it seemed the king would want him back to his old tricks, looking over trainees and taking care of problems that needed attention. Cain left the king with a respectful nod and headed to the barracks, nodding to those who greeted him but doing his best to avoid lengthy conversations until he made it to his room. He didn't have much to put away, he removed his dirty and beaten up armor and sat it on top of the wooden dresser, putting his swords and dagger on the table, and the rest of his stuff on the foot of the bed. Luckily some clothing had been left for him in the cabinets, simple but his style and though he knew he would be wearing something more flashy for the celebration he wanted to be comfortable until then. Cain bathed and quickly changed, going back to his room afterwards and sitting on the edge of the bed, not having much to put away to begin with. He simply sat there for some time doing nothing, enjoying the feel of an actual bed beneath him and the calm that he hadn't experienced in so long. Then he took his weapons and armor and began to clean them, he had always kept them up well but they were still dirty and for him it had become a near obsession to keep them in order when he was on the front line. At the very least it would pass some time before he had to leave his room and before the feast.