Thread: True Calling (Atroxa x Effigy)

Prologue Every time you try to do something good, it always comes back to stab you when you are least expecting it. What was with the world these days? Did the gods see it fit to abandon their creations? Or was this some cruel joke constructed by one of them in their oh so infinite knowledge to test man? Such questions were sound but when you had a group of ten maybe fifteen armed men surrounding you in the dead of night... Well you didn't have much time to bitch about circumstance. None the less here he was, with everything he had to his name.. Which was sad since it consisted of nothing more then a poor set of armor, a longsword, and a name that held no power or claim. Formally known as Sir Durihan Aldwin the once knight had been disgraced and banished from the capital of the kingdom of Weldrich. Forced to take mercenary work the aged ex-knight was fighting for his life once more on a fool's errand it would seem. Coming to the town of Sleed he had taken up a job running out a handful of bandits from the local woods. The job was said to be nothing more then five poorly equipped bandits at best... Not fifteen... in armor. This was looking more like a raiding party then some petty thieves. Well what are you waiting for?! I'm not getting any younger! Durihan shouted, sword unsheathed and gripped firmly between his hands. There was a snicker before one of the men charged at Durihan, a lance aimed right for Durihan. The ex-knight was still the same man, even if he was dishonored. The same man that stood against a hundred at the battle of the eastern hills... The same man who bested the greatest barbarian champion from the north in single combat.. Even if he was a little seasoned as he was getting close to forty years of age. The ex-knight side stepping and bringing his sword straight down. Too soon to actually slash his opponent, but perfectly timed to severe the iron tip from the wooden shaft of his weapon. A pivot of the foot and a swing of the sword and Durihan had his weapon above his head once more with his opponent coming to a stop with his failed charge. One large swift swing of his sword and the fool would be left on the ground, face split in half. Other would follow, striking and charging at Durihan as he did his best to defend himself. Of course Durihan would win, would survive. A man of his skill didn't die to raiders... But the true enemy that every man faced was time... And it seemed to show it's weight on Durihan in that fight. Maybe if he was younger, faster, stronger... Maybe he wouldn't of gotten slashed in the back... Maybe he would have been able to duck fast enough to get out of that shield that smashed against the side of his head. It was never fun to play the game of hindsight and yet here Durihan was, a victor... But a battered one at that. If he had any chance at surviving it would be back in town, and with that final hope he started to move... Practically dragging his feet as blood dripped down his body. There was even a couple of arrows sticking out from his right shoulder. Each step causing the tips to strain against his inner flesh. The woods seemed to grow creepier as Durihan trudged along. The trees darker, swaying even in the night breeze. Sets of eyes that Durihan could only assume were wild wolves or some creature waiting to carry his corpse away to devour. The man found himself stumbling a little, taking a few steps to the side to press against a tree. Was this really how he was going to die? He wanted so much to die for his King... For his Princess... Just the thought of her warmed Durihan's cold body. But that was a long time ago. Said Princess already having been married years ago. Now what admiration and pride he held for his King was an empty hole of disgust and hatred.. These days those dark emotions seemed more effective in fueling his actions then the happier ones. So with a grit of his teeth he pressed off the tree, focusing the best he could on staying up right as he continued towards what he hoped was town... But it seemed that maybe those wolves would get their chance after all as Durihan fell to the ground. A slow growing pool of blood starting to form beneath him as his face met with the dirt and twigs of the ground. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up when those damn beasts would start gnawing at his flesh.