AsgardianWitcher
New Member
He hated training exercises. Despised them, really. Yet, as the Knight Captain of the Duchess of Toussaint(a mouthful of a title), he had to attend them on occasion not only to spur the rest of the guard through their exercises, but to let Toussaint's Royal guard know that he wasn't an assimilated court politician. In the past, there had been a stigma on the position that aggravated him greatly, one that even his predecessor had not been able to shake. Damian had warned him about how he would be perceived by his men. He could hear the words bouncing through his skull now as he passed the dimly lit lanterns of the Cockatrice inn:
"Volgorl, things will not be the same! You will be considered beneath the politicians whom you are sworn to protect, yet those in your command will look at you as one of the politicians! Confusing, isn't it? But that's what comes with the post."
He snorted a laugh at the recollection. Damian had been drinking a bit too heavily that night, but what had he to lose? He was retiring, getting a fat pension from the Duchy and would finally be able to relax those bloody shoulders of his. Never once did Vol see his former commander's shoulders relax. They were always taut, rigid. He didn't understand that until he received the position himself. With so much on the line at seemingly EVERY instant, Vol hadn't the slightest idea how to relax, even when he wasn't protecting the Duchess or other royalty that happened to be with her. A mischievous smirk came cross his face. Other royalty, indeed.
His horse suddenly slowed from it's triumphant gallop to a simpering trot, the beast snorting, neighing and making a gigantic commotion on the starlit path.
"Come! Almost home, almost ho-" His horse raised it's front legs, the knight captain's relaxed grip on the reigns costing him his seat on the saddle, flying onto his back. Grunting with effort, he raised himself, dusting off his chocolate colored trousers.
"We're going to have a talk when we ge-" Hissing. His right hand gripped the handle of his blade, sliding it out of the scabbard just enough so the widest part of the blade glittered in the pale light of the moon. Suddenly he became painfully aware of the noisy chainmail covering the leather chestpiece he wore, the clinking of his studded gloves. More hissing. Coming from all around him on the empty path. Drawing his sword fully, he proclaimed:
"Show yourselves! You might receive a bit of mercy for surrendering now instead of paying with your lives!" The threats didn't deter the hissing, which came closer. From the northwest corner of the path came a beast...then another. He had seen these before: wide bodies with spider-like legs, sharp protrusions coming out of each appendage.
Kikimores.
His horse had ran off, allowing him to survey his attackers. There were five of them, converging on his location. It was true that Vol had strength on his side with his burly frame and sword skills, but not even one of his might and experience could tackle FIVE of these creatures without any assistance.
"A first time for everything." He muttered to himself as a Kikimore lunged at him with a poisoned limb, the knight captain dodging right and slicing vertically, chopping off an appendage. This seemed to enrage the others, who were now sprinting towards him.
Wonderful.
"Volgorl, things will not be the same! You will be considered beneath the politicians whom you are sworn to protect, yet those in your command will look at you as one of the politicians! Confusing, isn't it? But that's what comes with the post."
He snorted a laugh at the recollection. Damian had been drinking a bit too heavily that night, but what had he to lose? He was retiring, getting a fat pension from the Duchy and would finally be able to relax those bloody shoulders of his. Never once did Vol see his former commander's shoulders relax. They were always taut, rigid. He didn't understand that until he received the position himself. With so much on the line at seemingly EVERY instant, Vol hadn't the slightest idea how to relax, even when he wasn't protecting the Duchess or other royalty that happened to be with her. A mischievous smirk came cross his face. Other royalty, indeed.
His horse suddenly slowed from it's triumphant gallop to a simpering trot, the beast snorting, neighing and making a gigantic commotion on the starlit path.
"Come! Almost home, almost ho-" His horse raised it's front legs, the knight captain's relaxed grip on the reigns costing him his seat on the saddle, flying onto his back. Grunting with effort, he raised himself, dusting off his chocolate colored trousers.
"We're going to have a talk when we ge-" Hissing. His right hand gripped the handle of his blade, sliding it out of the scabbard just enough so the widest part of the blade glittered in the pale light of the moon. Suddenly he became painfully aware of the noisy chainmail covering the leather chestpiece he wore, the clinking of his studded gloves. More hissing. Coming from all around him on the empty path. Drawing his sword fully, he proclaimed:
"Show yourselves! You might receive a bit of mercy for surrendering now instead of paying with your lives!" The threats didn't deter the hissing, which came closer. From the northwest corner of the path came a beast...then another. He had seen these before: wide bodies with spider-like legs, sharp protrusions coming out of each appendage.
Kikimores.
His horse had ran off, allowing him to survey his attackers. There were five of them, converging on his location. It was true that Vol had strength on his side with his burly frame and sword skills, but not even one of his might and experience could tackle FIVE of these creatures without any assistance.
"A first time for everything." He muttered to himself as a Kikimore lunged at him with a poisoned limb, the knight captain dodging right and slicing vertically, chopping off an appendage. This seemed to enrage the others, who were now sprinting towards him.
Wonderful.