Oh Woe

[Kreig Messer]

Summer 512 A.V. 1st day 11th Bell 47th chime.

Summer, a dreadful thing but a necessity one would suppose. With the new season came the annoying heat and humidity, people could barely function during these days but had to earn their keep. After the odd storm that began the first day of spring and the reconstruction that followed things seemed to be going to normal as the last season came to an end, reconstruction was still expected in the summer but was more or less near completion. Not much had changed for Kreig himself, his companions still out of the city either at the Spires or doing something personal journey of sorts ‘Hope they’re doing well’ Came the simple thought as Kreig sat in the middle of the Crimson Edge Camp, the shine of the unbearable summer sun, no offense to the goddess, touching his skin.

Besides him lay his longsword and wooden counterparts, his gauntlets were on his fists gleaming with sweat and shining. He began his morning by training with them, a recent habit that had slowly brought him comfort over time. Although it wasn’t as fun as brawling…. It was calming; it brought a peace of mind that he couldn’t find in fighting others with his fist. The adrenaline rush he loved could only be found in combat ‘But this has a charm of its own’ he thought as he stared at sky, breathing deeply after a heavy bout of training. Due to the fact the majority of the Crimson Edge was out of town he had to stay as a ‘guard dog’ for some of the time so other gangs would not move onto their turf. It was a dull thing, but necessary as smaller gangs have a tendency to be hunting for new ground. The ruling gangs were usually busy with other matters so things between the smaller lots were pretty much left to their own devices unless it threatens or annoys them in some way.

After sitting around a while more, he decided to get up to continue his training. Much was still needed to be learnt as he picked up one of his wooden swords that were bolted with a metal strip and began the simple practice of swinging the blade in chopping motions. Although the lighter wooden ones were good for swinging they had little weight compared to the heavier ones which were closer in weight to his actual sword, so swinging it around helped ease himself with the weight and figure out how much force was needed for each blow, he could have used his real sword for this but there was a snag, it was possible for him to cut himself or accidental death because of improper handling which was a stupid way to die. With the wooden one he wouldn’t have to fear killing himself and would get off with simple bruises.

He continued with swinging the blade for a bit of time, unaware that he was not alone as eyes seemed to stare in the distance, As the camp was located in the slums it was no surprise really that he was being watched from the distance. As earlier stated, other gangs tended to hunt for new grounds, occupied or not they will force their way if they think they can. Two figures stood in the distance, one of average height, late thirties and quite bald too, his only apparent weapon was the longsword at his side. His shorter counterpart only seemed to have a dagger, the individual itself wore a heavy cloak that seemed to shroud their features. The larger figure seemed to whisper something into the shorter ones ear before leaving them as he approached Kreig.

“I see you train with the longsword, like myself” As quickly as he could Kreig turned around and stared at the intruder “Calm down friend, I’m not looking to start a fight just yet…. Let’s have a bit of conversation” He said with a bit of an accent, it was a light one but still very noticeable.

“How very civilized dear gent” Kreig chuckled as he still held the heavy wooden longsword, this bald headed man had him by the shorthairs in a way “You do realize this is controlled territory friend, you think I am alone?”

“I know you are friend, this is not the first time I observed this place. Sometimes it is empty, sometimes you are here and maybe one or two others, but only so few. I know that whenever you are here, you train with those wooden blades, and only swing your true blade a few times. Still quite inadequate, your skill that is, my own son could disarm you” The intruder chuckled , he knew much of what Kreig did, sadly Kreig never realized that many a time had been watched.

“Ah, then you know I am not much a of a swordsman, If you and I were to fight with our blades I’d lose….”

“Ah yes, I’ve also seen you around other places. Quite often at the taverns, I’m no fool friend, lacking in the blade you may be, but those fist of yours have been drenched in blood many a time.” He flashed a sly grin “Now as for why I am here, friends of mine would like this little slice of misery and I’ve been tasked on killing you as part of an initiation. No hard feeling friend, but your blood needs to drenched on my blade and your head a souvenir to be shown to my friends” He said as he unsheathed his Longsword, the shine of the sun reflected upon its surface.

“I see, so you know how a fight” Kreig’s blood began to boil, despite this being troubling situation it began to fill his need for battle. What better way to begin his summer other than a battle of life and death? He still held the wooden sword, with one hand rather than both this time and took an informal stance, it wasn’t one a swordsman would take but rather one who had never received any formal training in combat , it was simply the brawlers stance “Tis a shame dear gent, I would have loved to sit around a tavern with you and partake in a pleasant conversation” He slowly began to show his manic grin, his fists tightening as the sun shone on the exterior of his gauntlets.

The wonderful silent moment began, the tense moment that seemed to be frozen in time as a battle was about to begin. Then suddenly came the movement of the intruder as he crept close to Kreig, bringing his blade down in an overhead strike, Kreig stepped to the side narrowly avoiding getting sliced by the blade and swung his wooden longsword in retaliation, only for it to be blocked by the man’s own blade and for him to be struck in the stomach and pushed away by the man’s foot.

Kreig’s smile widened as he clasped his stomach and stared at the man before, a calm smile adorning his own features as he thrusted his blade forward, aiming to run it through Kreig’s stomach. But Kreig had recovered quickly, he was no stranger to battle after all, he fought many a battle, won and lost some and witnessed many. Sure it was mainly with his fists that he fought but he was no stranger to fighting armed opponents. As the tip of the steel longsword crept closer Kreig brought up his gauntleted left hand and slapped the blade away and like a club swung his wooden blade at the man’s had. Unfortunately the improper swing was avoided as the man simply ducked and tackled Kreig with his shoulder, pushing him to the ground.

Laughing loudly, Kreig could not help but think how fun this is “HE’S GOOD, reaaaaal goooood” he thought maniacly, one thing to say about Kreig’s brawling style is that it was becoming a bit more controlled thanks to practicing with his wooden blades… the calming effect it usually brought was quite useful. Mere moments before the man would try to skew Kreig while he was still down Kreig had rolled to the side, stood up and looked at his opponent happily “Quite the fighter gent, I must say you impress me” .

“I am impressed as well friend, although you are quite lacking in the sword arts you’re fists seems and battle instinct seem to know what they were doing” He said, now that the compliments were out of the way Kreig had begun the second assault of this battle as he charged forward and swung his wooden blade at the man, promptly blocking it but Kreig didn’t stop there as he continued swinging and placing the man on the defensive .

“GO DOWN GO DOWN GO DOWN GO DOWN” He shouted with maniacle glee, the constant swinging of the wooden blade against the side of the steel one beginning to crack Kreig’s own weapon, after all, it was still wood even if it was bolted with metal.

“I have you now friend” The man said as soon as he noticed the cracks of Kreig’s practice blade, swinging his own blade at Kreig’s own and promptly cutting the wooden blade….. but this did not deter Kreig from continuing his assault as he tackled the man to the ground and stood above
“NOT ANYMOOOOORE” He then brought up his fists, his right still holding the broken wooden blade. Without further ado he began his favorite ritual of ‘PUNCHING HIS FACE IN’ as the man brought up his arms to protect said face, unless he could do something he was in trouble of well….. his face being punched in, Kreig’s gauntlet were certainly helping things along to that bloody death. When his punching rhythm began to falter the man struck the side of Kreig’s head with the pommel of his longsword, causing Kreig to fall to the side and the man was now on top of Kreig, his blade pressed against Kreig’s neck “Ahahahah, looks like I’m a pickle dear sir, I’m I to die now?” He asked as blood dripped from his forehead.

“I’m afraid so Friend, worry not though as you will head into the next world with pride knowing you fought like a beast” He said, but then felt something terrible, a sharp pain into his side. As he his eyes widened in horror, he looked to pained side and saw the broken wooden blade lodged into it and turned back to Kreig, life quickly being and the strength of his arms drained from him as Kreig smiled widely….

“I should thank you for that, after all if it didn’t broke I’d still be fighting with a toy, now I killed you with an improvised weapon. Such a shame though, if things were different we would be such good friends” As the last bit of life disappeared from the man’s eyes his corpse fell on top of Kreig “Heavy little bugger aren’t you?” he chuckled as he pushed the body off him with some effort “a fight well worth the price of that wooden sword, that’s for sure” He chuckled as he got up slowly.

The man’s rather short companion, who observed the battle, was no creeping closer to Kreig and his companion’s corpse, the sound of his footsteps alerting Kreig to his presence “Another one? Were you with this gent, sorry about killing him, but you know how things go” He chuckled, awaiting for the small figures response, but received none as the figure approached the man’s warm corpse.

“You killed my pa…” The figure said sorrowfully as he fell to his knees and looked upon the body. When Kreig heard the last part his heart sank a little, a teeney bit only, not quite enough to administer permanent guilt. Yes he killed the boy’s father, but the man attacked knowing full well of the costs. Unfortunately the boy did not know that, must of have thought his father some sort of invincible being. Expecting the child to break down and cry, instead he got angry…very angry, Pulling out his dagger, charging at Kreig and wanting to kill him type of angry

“Child, stop this, your father knew the….” He sidestepped to avoid the reckless charge, causing the boy to trip “….He knew what would possibly happen” But there was no reasoning with an angry mourning child. As the child stood up, a mix of sorrow and anger adorning his face, tears flowing from his owns down his face and falling to the ground like rain. Clumsily holding the dagger, the boy couldn’t have been a day over nine years of age “Boy, see reason, what use would you have of killing me, your father is in Dira’s care now” But the boy didn’t care as he charged once more, successfully stabbing Kreig in the leg, Yelping in pain, Kreig pushed the boy away with a backhanded slap to the face….but that was a mistake you see, it wasn’t a bare hand after all, but one covered in metal and Kreig knew how to throw good blows. As the boy fell to the ground he too was motionless, like the corpse that was his father.

For the moment Kreig was too preoccupied with the dagger lodged in his leg “Petching hell boy, forgive me but I insist that you….Boy?” As he raised his head he saw the boys unconscious form and realized he had just hit him with his gauntleted hands, his eyes rose in horror as he limped forward to the boy and touched his form “Boy, are you alright? Did I hit you too hard? Boy?” He shook the body, hoping to get a response, but oh woe, there was none. He removed his right gauntlet and placed it near the boys mouth in hopes for a breath, but oh woe, there was none. Finally, he placed an ear over the boys chest in hopes for a beating heart, but oh woe, there was none. Woe is the horrified Kreig, woe for the horrified brawled as his eyes grew wide and his mouth speechless, a weight of guilt and dread upon his chest.

“I…Killed him” Horribly true “I Killed a child “ Isn’t that the sad truth “ Boy, wake up…Please” But there was no hope of that, he was now alongside his father meeting the goddess of death “Please?!...PLEASE?!?!” He pleaded, but no response. He continued shaking the body even though he fully knew it was futile, tears rolling down his horrified face “ Come now boy….WAKE UP, PLEASE!!” It continued for several hours but then he gave up.

He sat there staring at the young body, hugging his legs and telling himself “He’s with dira, its okay” trying to reassure himself with that fact, but then he becomes more grief stricken with other facts “He was young though, just a boy…. I didn’t mean, he was attacking me….but he was just a boy…..just a boy….I’m a monster….But I didn’t mean too” He murmured to himself over and over and over and over. Oh woe is the poor brawler who had pride in his fists, for it now tasted the blood of an innocent child. Such a pity, but such a thing was Sunberth, a child’s death was not new…. But the poor Brawler didn’t care, he had killed a young child and now he simply stares at the corpse, his eyes incapable of looking away…..Oh woe.

[Archelon]

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Krieg : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Brawling 2 Longsword 2 Observation 1 Medicine 1 Checking for breath and signs of life Lores: An Innocent's blood on my hands. Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting thread Any questions,comments,or concerns please feel free to send me a nice pm.