Shortly after the event had occurred, a man by the name of Alaric Keen sat in the old premises of the Golden Willow tavern, his mind and body only feeling eternal melancholy. He couldn't forget what had just happened; the memory had only kept returning. Although the exact format of the memory was slightly distorted, the idea of it remained the same.
"Clickers!"
The many guards and mercenaries held up in the Mercenary Keep unsheathed their weapons to fight the clicker which had only appeared moments before. Together, the forces attacked the demonic creature until it disappeared into its unknown shadows. The guards left the mercenary keep shortly after, leaving the Kreiguard company alone in the keep.
"Kommandant, Offizier, they forgot a man and he's injured. Apparently, his name is Frank," said one of the Kreiguardsmen.
"Bring him upstairs and put him on a bed," said the Kommandant.
Minutes passed, and the injured guardsman was brought into a room within the Keep to rest, overseen by a few of the mercenaries.
"Recruit, strip him of his armor. We're putting him in the dungeon," said one of the men.
Those words, those twelve simple worlds, put a scar on the memories of every single person within the company. When said, no one had thought much of them, assuming it was pure anger. The man who had said them, Jonathan Herran, was just a simple regular. I agreed with him too. I wanted to nearly kill the guard,
Frank, the injured guardsman who had been abandoned by his own men, stood up to strike Jonathan with his shield, going to sit back down to rest afterwards.
"Enough," I said. "We aren't going to strip a dutiful guardsman of his armor."
Jonathan was whacked in the nose, standing down. "Alright, point taken," he said.
Hours later, I stood in the courtyard of the mercenary keep, thinking of the company training which would be occurring moments later.
"Keen, come with me. Jonathan was arrested," said a man named Sigvard Kreiburg, uncle of the Kommandant.
"Huh?" I said, not understanding. "Why would Jonathan be arrested..? What did he do."
It had hit me what Jonathan had said earlier about Frank, the guardsman. What would this mean?
I followed, heading to the bridge which made way for the Grey Gate prison. There Frank stood, alongside William Howlester.
"That's him!" said Frank, "That's the man who stopped him."
I didn't get it; stopped who? Who was he talking about.
"Jonathan Herran is to be removed from your company and will be publicly denounced in an hour," said the Howlester. "Until further notice, Kreiguard, consider your men suspended of their mercenary rights for further investigation."
At the public denouncement, Jonathan screamed and yelled. All of this for the words he had said about locking Frank up moments before. I felt horrible, the blame falling alongside me. Jonathan was loyal, innocent, smart, and a true believer of Unionism.
To lose our company over one man? One innocent man? I couldn't bear it. Shamefully, the rest of the company publicly yelled and discriminated against him to show their worth, so I joined in. The hatred, the rigid voice of mine spilling insults on the one loyal man we had now lost,
"Jonathan will be released in the slums," said William Howlester. "Do what you most. Anything can happen in the slums."
Why did I go the slums? Why did we follow him?
No more. No more living with the guilt. In a line, the Kreiguardsmen lined up their rifles at the innocent. I lifted mine, closing my eyes, hoping we would all miss the shot.
"Dump the body in the river."
@Ryria
"Clickers!"
The many guards and mercenaries held up in the Mercenary Keep unsheathed their weapons to fight the clicker which had only appeared moments before. Together, the forces attacked the demonic creature until it disappeared into its unknown shadows. The guards left the mercenary keep shortly after, leaving the Kreiguard company alone in the keep.
"Kommandant, Offizier, they forgot a man and he's injured. Apparently, his name is Frank," said one of the Kreiguardsmen.
"Bring him upstairs and put him on a bed," said the Kommandant.
Minutes passed, and the injured guardsman was brought into a room within the Keep to rest, overseen by a few of the mercenaries.
"Recruit, strip him of his armor. We're putting him in the dungeon," said one of the men.
Those words, those twelve simple worlds, put a scar on the memories of every single person within the company. When said, no one had thought much of them, assuming it was pure anger. The man who had said them, Jonathan Herran, was just a simple regular. I agreed with him too. I wanted to nearly kill the guard,
Frank, the injured guardsman who had been abandoned by his own men, stood up to strike Jonathan with his shield, going to sit back down to rest afterwards.
"Enough," I said. "We aren't going to strip a dutiful guardsman of his armor."
Jonathan was whacked in the nose, standing down. "Alright, point taken," he said.
Hours later, I stood in the courtyard of the mercenary keep, thinking of the company training which would be occurring moments later.
"Keen, come with me. Jonathan was arrested," said a man named Sigvard Kreiburg, uncle of the Kommandant.
"Huh?" I said, not understanding. "Why would Jonathan be arrested..? What did he do."
It had hit me what Jonathan had said earlier about Frank, the guardsman. What would this mean?
I followed, heading to the bridge which made way for the Grey Gate prison. There Frank stood, alongside William Howlester.
"That's him!" said Frank, "That's the man who stopped him."
I didn't get it; stopped who? Who was he talking about.
"Jonathan Herran is to be removed from your company and will be publicly denounced in an hour," said the Howlester. "Until further notice, Kreiguard, consider your men suspended of their mercenary rights for further investigation."
At the public denouncement, Jonathan screamed and yelled. All of this for the words he had said about locking Frank up moments before. I felt horrible, the blame falling alongside me. Jonathan was loyal, innocent, smart, and a true believer of Unionism.
To lose our company over one man? One innocent man? I couldn't bear it. Shamefully, the rest of the company publicly yelled and discriminated against him to show their worth, so I joined in. The hatred, the rigid voice of mine spilling insults on the one loyal man we had now lost,
"Jonathan will be released in the slums," said William Howlester. "Do what you most. Anything can happen in the slums."
Why did I go the slums? Why did we follow him?
No more. No more living with the guilt. In a line, the Kreiguardsmen lined up their rifles at the innocent. I lifted mine, closing my eyes, hoping we would all miss the shot.
"Dump the body in the river."
@Ryria
