The Man Comes Around

Posted on 10 Oct 2022 @ 2:48am by Warrior Skeld

2,176 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Hall of the Phantom Shadow
Location: Jader - Outskirts
Timeline: Bloomingtide 6th - Morning
Tags: None

NRPG: Just a bit of an intro for Skeld, to give a taste of how he's seen by those that know him. Happy to be back in the game!


Sunbeams were just starting to break through the trees to the east as irregular, golden beams of light that lit spots of the countryside and heated the dew, causing patches of mist to form that gave off an eery stillness to the morning, broken only by the popping of embers of the small fire. The border guard warmed his hands over the outpost brazier, as the new recruit worked to bring more firewood from the loggers cabin; It was absolutely normal for both of them to be involved in gathering the wood, but it was a brisk morning and the senior guard hadn’t hazed anyone in a while, and it was character building. ...Or so his mentor had told him when he started the job. The lad was a good kid, though – strong, obedient, could read and could even string a sentence together; wasn’t much else needed for a gate guard in Jader, besides perhaps the ability to get pretty much any other job in the garrison.

“How you doing, boy?” he asked, the monicker more a term of endearment than an indication that he’d forgotten the lad’s name.

“Yeah,” he puffed, as he dropped the two nets of wood he had told him to bring in the guard house; important to keep the buggers dry, or the journey would be for naught. “Just … need to… catch my breath,” he panted, removing his helm. Steam rose from his hair, making the older man chuckle.

“Good lad, make sure you get by the fire or indoors for a bit; sweat in the cold will strip the heat from your bones, once you stop moving. Don’t want you dying on the job, it’s a lot of paperwork and you know what I say about paperwork-“

“-if it’s paperwork, it’s my work,” the boy replied, with a breathless laugh. The older man grinned – yeah, he’d work well out on the gate.

It was then he noticed the figure walking towards the gate, instantly knowing him by name. “Look alive, lad – we have a visitor. I don’t think you’d want to try, but – make sure your courteous to this one,” he said, clapping his hands over the fire a couple of times before refitting his fingerless gloves and leaning the spear into his left hand. The boy looked at him, confused, then out to the man in the distance.

“You can tell who it is from here?” he asked, fanning heat into his cloak before he, too, refit his gloves and helm, grabbing his spear.

“Left hand, boy!” the older man hissed. “Do as I do.” He indicated the relaxed grip, the spear in hand but held on the left, resting against the shoulder. He looked confused, from his mentor to the spear, to the man on the road, then back to the mentor.

“I don’t understand, I’m right-handed,” he said, as if that resolved the matter. The older man rolled his eyes. The red hair of the man on the road was visible now he had dropped his hood.

“I know what side your bleeding hand is,” he growled at the younger man, “I’m telling you that your spear shouldn’t be there – move it, afore you cause offense.” Confused, he moved to comply, but squinted down the road as if the answers to why might be found there.

“I don’t understand, you’ve not had me do this before – is he someone important?” he asked, making the older man bark.

“Look lad, you’ll find in this job there’s a couple types of people that you want to remember your courtesies around. There’s the nobles, true – to a point. And then there’s buggers like Skeld, who you are about to become acquainted with. Remember – don’t raise your voice and for God’s sake don’t move that spear into your main hand.”

“Why, what’ll happen if I do?” he asked, worried as the man drew closer.

“Then I’ll be needing to fetch me own wood and fill out me own paperwork,” the mentor said, ominously. The wider eyes on the lad suggested he took the guard’s meaning, and he turned back to the road as the crunching of footsteps came into earshot. The boy instinctively drew himself up to his height; for most, it would be enough to put him eyeball to eyeball, but not Skeld. The poor lad started getting paler as the hulking man stepped closer and closer, gulping when he drew himself up to the guard post; the building wasn’t big, but the lad had never needed to stoop while inside, yet the painted redheaded man was tall enough he could inspect the top of the roof without issue. The poor lad was craning his neck to keep eye contact, which Skeld seemed to think was funny.

“Morning, Skeld,” the mentor said amicably, raising his right hand in greeting. Skeld did the same, left hand on his belt, where a bearded axe hung on either side. On his back he wore a cloak and above that, a great axe was strapped across his back. Skeld looked down at the guard, and broke into a grin.

“Leopold, my old friend!” he bellowed, his voice carrying in the still, morning air. “Gods, it has been ages – still on the gate? Has the guard captain truly not forgiven you?” The lad’s ears pricked at that; he had been gawking at the giant in front of him, but on hearing a note of Leopold’s history, he suddenly had something else to focus on.

“Well, as to that – I find the gate suits me in my waning years, so I decided to stay,” he said, laughing it off. “You’ve been away a spell, any tales to tell?”

“Oh, tales aplenty!” Skeld’s tone was mirthful. “I just took down a dark presence in the Dales, some ancient cursed bastard from the elves of old! Twisted demon of hunger or some such, wanted to eat me!”

“That so?” Leopold asked, looking to the map etched onto the board by the guard house. “Haven’t heard tell of anything recently by the road, were you in the deep forest again?” he asked, the lad looking from the road to the map to the man.

“Oh yes, I found myself taking a road that led deep into the woods, following a halla beast’s trail…”

Skeld proceeded to go into detail about his journey; how he had stalked the halla, only to find its hoof prints changed to those of a man, and then disappear entirely on the outskirts of some ancient elven ruins. How he had been called to enter by name, voices drifting on the wind as the mists rolled in around the ruins to confuse all senses but the sight of that which was just before you. His description of the beast had the young lad enraptured, and Leopold had to admit that the

“… it came down to the final lunge; his hunger against my strength, we threw caution to the wind and committed for the final contest. It almost had me, but my footing found an unexpected foundation stone and I was able to launch him onto his back. We rolled as I got my hands on his spine and twisted his head until it snapped; all at once, the mist and the demon were gone, expelled into the sky like smoke, leaving me panting in the grass, half dead from exhaustion,” he finished, breathing loudly and beaming with pride. The young lad was gawking now.

“I never heard of anyone but a templar killing an abomination like that,” he breathed, impressed.

“Well, you should have Leo tell you a few stories, we fought one together once – defended this gate until we were the last two remaining,” he said, looking fondly to Leopold, who smiled politely.

“Oh, enough of that Skeld – I suppose you’ll be heading in to the Roost, if we need you?” he asked, to which the larger man nodded.

“Oh yes, let me know if there’s anything strong to fight – always happy to lend the guard a hand in times of trouble,” he added, clapping the boy on his shoulder and nearly making him buckle. It was the sort of action Leopold had seen from those trying to assert dominance over a man of authority, clapping them hard on the shoulder or some such to remind them just how strong they were, but he knew Skeld didn’t do this to intimidate or imply any such dominance, he just genuinely had trouble holding his strength back. The boy recovered gracefully, though, and avoided falling to his ass, which was a point in his favour.

“Right you are, Skeld – as always, Jader welcomes you. Be seeing you,” Leo said, raising his right hand in farewell. The boy followed suit after a moment of gawking some more, and Skeld was on his way, singing a soft tune in some tongue Leo was not familiar with.

“You killed an abomination?” he breathed, a new level of respect in his voice that made Leo question the times he had thought the boy had sounded impressed before. In truth, it would be nice to have a little hero worship, and he toyed with the idea of just keeping his mouth shut and going back to his business, and let the boy think of him as Leopold the abomination slayer, but he’d never be a good guard if he did that.

“What gate is this, boy?” he asked, finally, jerking his thumb at the gate behind him, as the sound of Skeld’s singing went out of earshot. He tossed the spear to his right hand, and planted the shaft into the ground with force as if to remind the boy they were on duty.

“I don’t… erm…” a look at Leopold told him that this was not a trick question. “The eastern gate?” he asked, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer.

“Good. So tell me how a man can pass through the Dales, fight an abomination with his bare hands, and then approach the city of Jader from the east,” he asked, rolling his eyes. The boy blinked, as if thoughts were coming to him slower than usual. “Come on boy, it’s not hard,” he added, dryly.

With blinking realisation, the boy looked back to the road towards Ferelden, then back to the city walls. “There’s… there isn’t any way, he’d approach from the west,” he responded, to which Leo nodded, wryly. “Wait, that was all a lie?” he asked, incredulous.

“Lesson one about being a guard on the gate; Skeld lies. But he’s a good story teller,” he added, as if that made up for it. The boy was flabbergasted for a moment, looking back to the road Skeld had taken into town.

“Wait, shouldn’t we arrest him or… something?” he asked, and Leopold barked a laugh.

“Not against the law to lie, boy – if t’were, half of Jader would be in jail, and they’d be the honest ones. Skeld is solid in a fight, but take care with his words; they tend to change in the telling.” The boy stared for a few, long moments, taking this in.

“So, did you not kill an abomination then?” he asked, and Leopold sighed.

“There was a mage,” he said slowly, the unspoken but prescient “but” hanging in the air. “and he was not in his right mind, and Skeld and I did indeed fight to protect the gate…”

“… but?” the boy pressed, eliciting another sigh.

“…but the only spirit that had made its way inside that man was served in the many taverns of the harbour. And Skeld had been out drinking with him, so that’s how it came to pass that they were walk through the city gate at the same time. As for me and Skeld fighting as “the last defenders holding the gate”, well… It’s not hard to be the last two standing in a three person dust up. We threw the mage in the vagrant cage and had the templars take him back to the circle.”

The boy whistled at that, shaking his head. “I totally believed him…” he said, half impressed and half annoyed. Leo grunted, taking his gloves off and once again warming his hands by the fire.

“Everybody lies, lad. Skeld... just practices more than most.”



NRPG: Skeld will arrive at the Raven's Roost tavern in the middle of the current kerfuffle, looking for Mead and Kalian to drink with :)

 

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