Savage. Brute. Simple. Uncivilized. Illiterate..
Five words echoed through the Skagger's mind. Over and over. Pacing back and forth through his mind, like clockwork. A constant barrage of the brands society has bestowed him with.
Savage.
The now thirty-two year old man spent his life in a tribe within the forests of Drixagh, only leaving to attend the School of Skagger. A Balltarc with the reputation of a Northerner, savage.
Brute.
A battle hardened Skagger Berhednar with the scars to prove it. Only ever unleashing his potential on the battlefield, yet the scars he carry show a different picture to most.
Simple. Uncivilized.
The now thirty-two year old man spent his life in a tribe within the forests of Drixagh, only leaving to attend the School of Skagger. Only recently coming to a city, Regalia.
Illiterate.
Bangsi couldn't understand any sort of text, he barely knew how to write his name. Laughed at for attempting to teach himself, throwing and tearing books out of anger and frustration.
Tracing the paths of the park, the man fiddled with the ring in his pocket. Small, imperfect, and insignificant, the ring was, just as he felt about himself. Just another savage in a refined city of culture. The words grew ever so louder as he approached a bridge overlooking the water. Pulling the tiny ring out, and inspecting it ever so closely.
He didn't deserve what he had, someone of culture couldn't truly love a savage. A pure face couldn't love a tattooed brute. A literate couldn't have respect for an illiterate. "I don't deserve 'er. Do I?" He held the ring over the water for several moments "She don't love me t'e way I love 'er, does s'e?" Sighing, he dropped the ring back into his pocket and continued off.Not today.
