Archive Posted January 30, 2003 Report Posted January 30, 2003 Tek Chaos Visitor Posts: 6 (11/17/01 11:34:21 pm) Reply The Shadowed Warrior -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Shadowed Warrior Memories… What a horrible account. To see things as they were, enjoy them as if they were now. Feel the good and the bad of the past, and use to help the future. Yes, memories. I remember when I had memories. Four years ago seems like an eternity. To find it, to look so far back within my mind, is like looking through a fog. I know it’s there. That time when I had feelings, beliefs… and friends. Useless really. But I was young, and knew no better. A lot can happen in four years. Babies can be born, entire kingdoms can be raised, and can fall, and even the closest of your family can leave you. My last four years ended up being the most important and most altering of my life. * * * Once upon a time, I was an aspiring warrior: the best in my class. I trained in the arts of swordplay and dabbled in magic. I had talent, I was told, by the master there. He was an old man, who had by far past his day, but he had connections. So I trained my heart away, and made many a friend. One struck me hard in sparring one day, and gained my utmost respect. Darren was his name I think. We stuck together in training and fought together against all comers in a local tournament; the master had suggested we enter. We won with ease, that I remember well. Apparently there were guild scouts there, and a particular group approached Darren and I. We accepted their offer, and became two members of Jaharia’s Company, a long-standing guild of the best and most skilled rouges in the province. But even they were small in the big scheme of things. Eventually Jaharia’s Company got in a spat with a big guild out of province, and called us all in. In a half a year, Jahaira’s Company would no longer exist. The corners of darkness The Company fought hard, but was destroyed in a war against a cutthroat guild that spread over 7 provinces called the Union of Shadows. Darren and I struggled against their men, and managed to kill 5 to 1 on each encounter. When they overwhelmed us, they offered us positions as an ultimatum to execution. We took it. They taught us everything. Beyond our battle talents, they taught us the way of the world. Enhancing our experiences with the aid of knowledge. Faith in our team and guild was bestowed within us. We learned to act as one. During the first 5 months there, Darren and I helped the Union of Shadows grow into 5 other provinces. The entire territory only divided into 20 provinces, and we were determined to bring our guild into all of them. Having been promoted to the highest rank within the guild, Darren and I split up and worked on different provinces. It was several months and 3 conquered provinces later that I received word of Darren’s death. He was murdered in the field of battle, an axe in his back. Evil’s one true weapon This news was unacceptable. I traveled to his place of death and engaged the enemy in battle immediately. I must have slew half an army that day. I would not command again for a long time. I spent my days in training. For months and honed my magical abilities and learned the arts of new and interesting weapons. When I emerged from my hole of darkness, a god of skill, I learned of the Union of Shadows’ encounters with another guild, the Light of Honour. Our number of provinces were halved. The battle was not finished, either and had become a threat to the leaders of the Union. Later it would be called the War against the Light. With my leaders’ permission I led a crusade to drive back the Light of Honour and succeeded flawlessly. It took less time to reclaim what we had lost then when we had first gained it. And within weeks following the reclaimed land, all but one province had been conquered. Never had I battled such insolence. O, Immortal of life Before I was able to claim the last province, and the territory for the Union of Shadows, several simultaneous assassinations claimed the lives of my leaders. The guild would blame me for their deaths; some saying I arranged it personally, some who blamed my inability to stop the attempts. I was banished from my guild, and told never to return. Though I was banished from the guild and commanded no armies, their ways were still a part of me. I would go on the road, traveling from one place to another, living as I see fit. Nothing would – nor could – stop me. I wandered, drifted from kingdom to kingdom and did whatever I wanted. Occasionally I would be recognized, and battle would have to result in my retort. My skills were unmatched though, and so my ways were always unobstructed. And never does he yield * * * It was in those travels that I lost my emotion, my belief in all things save for myself. All those things before now, the trivial twists and turns of life that brings us to who we are. What is the point to knowing them, to caring for them, if they don’t have a bearing on how we exist? To live is one thing. I do that to this day, and I will never cease in my actions until the day comes, if ever, when I am unmatched. But to remember life? It is pointless. They wrote a poem about me. I heard it in a tavern once and marveled at the idea of expressing my actions as a memory. The Shadowed Warrior The corners of darkness, Wield a warrior true. Who does with solid blade, Runs the hopes of good men through. Evil’s one true weapon, The bane of all our time. He falls from the shadows, And to them he gives climb. O, Immortal of life, his Weapons do not miss. Magics that are unmatched, Sending rivals to the dark abyss. And never does he yield, Whilst on his deadly path. And never will he yield, We shall always see his wrath. Yes, memories… useless really.
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