Sweat beaded up at his brow beneath the diamond crested helmet. It seemed that being inside that suit was a way of life anymore. Peering across the horizon, he held tightly to the hilt of The Derpy Sword. The damned blade had gone from being mere loot to his companion in every fight. If he wasn’t careful, it would become a sentimental piece of his history. He couldn’t afford that kind of attachment anymore.
The sun broke over the landscape, pouring its orange hues over every hilltop and forest. The only light that equaled its splendor was that of the beacon. The low thrum of the core could be heard from the hundred feet or so he stood from the protective exterior. Territory generators. They were just another thing that might as well have doubled for intermittent homes than mere devices to claim his and his allies’ land.
“Days were much simpler when I was only a builder…” he murmured to himself. His bow hung heavy on his back and he could feel the inhibitor roaring to life next to him. Others were on their way and soon, blood would paint the ground like the morning dew.
Shame washed over him for but a moment. Not for lives that were taken by his own hand, or even those that were lost by his allies’ volition. No. His shame came from the losses incurred before these wars ever started. Bauherren had fallen into ruin because of his lack of initiative in martial law. Death, famine, poverty, were all a result of his attempt to remain tame in a world full of conflict.
His knuckles tightened around the hilt. He was no longer a King. He denied the title when he made the decision he made in order to help his city thrive. Dragonstone was his home but he would not ask others to suffer for his choices lest they oppose him. They were at war. Everyone fought and died in the struggles that have come about.
“It was as I predicted, Bear…” another murmur escaped his lips. The thought went out to his second in command who he had not seen in ages. Perhaps soon he would have his General back. Until then, there would only be death to accompany his efforts.
As if queued by his thoughts, the inhibitor roared to life and lightning fell from the sky. One, two, three, four… Companions came forth from other cities beneath the banner of Osiris. Today he looked upon Zor, Psy, Pearl, and the horned Baron. There was no discussion. There was no elaborate planning. It was unnecessary and wasted time on the field. Only a nod was exchanged between them all and they were off at breakaway speeds.
This was their life.
This was the new Generation.
This was war.
The sun broke over the landscape, pouring its orange hues over every hilltop and forest. The only light that equaled its splendor was that of the beacon. The low thrum of the core could be heard from the hundred feet or so he stood from the protective exterior. Territory generators. They were just another thing that might as well have doubled for intermittent homes than mere devices to claim his and his allies’ land.
“Days were much simpler when I was only a builder…” he murmured to himself. His bow hung heavy on his back and he could feel the inhibitor roaring to life next to him. Others were on their way and soon, blood would paint the ground like the morning dew.
Shame washed over him for but a moment. Not for lives that were taken by his own hand, or even those that were lost by his allies’ volition. No. His shame came from the losses incurred before these wars ever started. Bauherren had fallen into ruin because of his lack of initiative in martial law. Death, famine, poverty, were all a result of his attempt to remain tame in a world full of conflict.
His knuckles tightened around the hilt. He was no longer a King. He denied the title when he made the decision he made in order to help his city thrive. Dragonstone was his home but he would not ask others to suffer for his choices lest they oppose him. They were at war. Everyone fought and died in the struggles that have come about.
“It was as I predicted, Bear…” another murmur escaped his lips. The thought went out to his second in command who he had not seen in ages. Perhaps soon he would have his General back. Until then, there would only be death to accompany his efforts.
As if queued by his thoughts, the inhibitor roared to life and lightning fell from the sky. One, two, three, four… Companions came forth from other cities beneath the banner of Osiris. Today he looked upon Zor, Psy, Pearl, and the horned Baron. There was no discussion. There was no elaborate planning. It was unnecessary and wasted time on the field. Only a nod was exchanged between them all and they were off at breakaway speeds.
This was their life.
This was the new Generation.
This was war.