Thread: ~ Victory Celebration ~ {AzelStormrose}

Across the fire from Joscelin sat one soldier that stuck out from all the others. His long shiny silver hair hung down around his shoulders and his ice blue eyes unblurred by the stuper of bad alcohol scanned the discusting men that surrounded him. Jericho Savander was the only soldier in the entire camp aside from Joscelin that did not reak of booze and sweat. In one hand sat an open book written in latin, and in the other sat a glass of fine red whine. The pair of reading glasses he wore sat low on his nose as he struggled to read by the dim fire light. He was clothed in a fine black and crimson red tunic. He wore the same armor he wore in battle which was none. Armor would only slow him down and he could not have that. At his sides sat two long curved scimitar like swords encased in wonderfully crafted sheaths Jericho was the only soldier in camp who never took part in the so called celebrations that this army took part in. Every now and then a shudder would rock his body as a girl screamed in pain. He hated this part of the army but being only third in charge he had no right to say anything about it. There were many rumors that floated around the camp that Jericho was a man who enjoyed a different type of lover though not a single one of these men were brave enough to ensenuate such a thing to his face. Jericho was the best swordsman in the military. The blades he weilded were crafted by his own hands. Though they were designed like scimitars they were about twice the length and much sharper. He weilded those blades much like they were art and any soldier who fought beside him or that he met on the battlefeild would compare his fighting to that of a deadly dance. He was respected and feared by most everyone in the camp or on an opposing force. By his colleages he was refered for his battle prowless. By the enemy he was Respected for the honor by which he lived his life. If ever there could be called a kind murderer then that title would be assigned to him. Every now and then Jericho would glance up across and let his eyes linger on the only other soldier in this entire camp that he was not ashamed to be in battle with. Joscelin was the only female soldier he had ever been in battle with and he was thrilled to be able to call her a firiend even if they did disagree continueously. He was aware of his feelings that were beginning to grow for the young woman, but he ignored them. Suddenly somthing caught Jericho's eye and infuriated him. Two young soldiers were in the process of dragging a girl who was only around 13 or 14 into the light of the campfire and attempting to rip her clothing off. As soon as his eyes landed on this young girl and the fear in her eyes he was up and across the fire his weapons drawn and two each of the two soldiers throats. The way he had positioned himself had him standing over the girl and between the two drunk soldiers. I have stood by and watched woman after woman be raped and killed, but this is just a girl barely more then a child. I will not let you take advantage of her and if either of you even think of reaching for your weapons ill cut you clear to your spine before you even see me move!!! He knew that this would draw attention from Joscelin and the other soldiers and whenever He drew attention it was never good but at this point he did not care he would not let a child be raped and murdered. His eyes turned softer when they landed on the young childAre you alright my child? She nervously nodded and scurried to cover herself again