04-16-2017, 12:19 AM
At first, the fellow seems to be at a loss - so I pull his sword from his belt, glean a small nihilistic thrill from bending it in half, pin him against the wall by the shoulders and ask him again.
"What are you doing? Why are you dressed the same as all those other men?"
He tenses, and at first I think he's going to struggle, but then he thinks better of it.
"We're the city watch," he says, with only a slight tremor in his voice. "The Duke's men. We're on patrol - enforcing curfew."
I take a moment to think about that, processing the meaning of curfew (a word I didn't know I knew, filled with the cadences of disappointment and weakness), and frowning as I spot a contradiction.
"If you're enforcing a curfew, then why have none of you approached me? Besides your fellow soldiers I'm literally the only person I've seen outdoors since the sun finished setting. Are you all incompetent, or merely afraid?"
The watchman looks nervous, an indecipherable series of expressions flickering across his craggy, fire-lit features before he gives his answer.
"The Duke told us not to engage you if we could help it."
I let go of the watchman's shoulders and grab him by the front of his chain-mail instead, lifting him off the ground. His armor chitters and clicks as it scrapes against the red stone wall. I nearly demand he tell me how the Duke could possibly know I was coming, but the answer strikes me before the words can pass my lips, blindingly obvious: Chatterly. My new, mysterious acquaintance must work for the Duke of Harnburg. Why else would he have instructed me to ask for him at the castle?
Instead I ask, "Why?"
The watchman's eyes flicker down toward my golden grasp, powerful fingers crushing the links of his hauberk.
"Because," he says, swallowing, "You're to be his guest. And he doesn't want us to provoke you."
I'm tickled by the futility of the gesture; Provoked or not, I'm going to kill them all. The only thing the Duke's consideration has bought him is time. My laughter echoes across the square, reverberating off the masonry, and I let go of the man's armor. He manages to keep his feet when he hits the ground.
"Your Duke is wise. Now. Tell me about yourself."
It takes almost an hour to extract enough information about corporal Sebastian Hoen of the Harnburg militia to satisfy me. I've gotten better with practice - I'm learning which questions to ask, and the best ways to keep a person talking when they don't necessarily feel like it.
As it turns out, he's actually quite interesting: created out of nothing, with only basic skill at arms and knowledge of how to live, the man has gone out of his way to make himself likable, but it hasn't quite worked out the way he'd hoped. Women find him attractive for breeding purposes, but he's never quite sure how to deal with that, and keeps finding himself getting chased out of other people's bedrooms by angry men - and on one occasion an angry mob, to the ongoing amusement of his fellow soldiers. He mostly spends his days practicing with the sword I just ruined, or carrying out mundane tasks, and his nights sleeping or out on patrol. In spite of his strength, which is above average for a secondary, Sebastian feels like nobody respects him, and suspects that although he may be acting out his original purpose, he's also wasting his life.
I tell him he's right, and leave him leaning downtrodden against the wall. The irony of his death at this moment would be brilliant, but sadly the cost would be too great. The Duke is expecting me, and breaking one of his toys would be too obvious; It would render much of my restraint up until this point useless.
The streets and squares surrounding the outer walls of Harnburg Castle are more ornate than the rest of the town. The gutters are cleaner, the rooftops are shingled rather than thatched, and the corners of the buildings are decorated - statuary at street level (mostly of rams and lions) and gargoyles in the eaves. In the starlight, as I circle towards the gatehouse, their open mouths and proud poses almost look like masks of terror - as though the stones alone can see what's soon to come.
"What are you doing? Why are you dressed the same as all those other men?"
He tenses, and at first I think he's going to struggle, but then he thinks better of it.
"We're the city watch," he says, with only a slight tremor in his voice. "The Duke's men. We're on patrol - enforcing curfew."
I take a moment to think about that, processing the meaning of curfew (a word I didn't know I knew, filled with the cadences of disappointment and weakness), and frowning as I spot a contradiction.
"If you're enforcing a curfew, then why have none of you approached me? Besides your fellow soldiers I'm literally the only person I've seen outdoors since the sun finished setting. Are you all incompetent, or merely afraid?"
The watchman looks nervous, an indecipherable series of expressions flickering across his craggy, fire-lit features before he gives his answer.
"The Duke told us not to engage you if we could help it."
I let go of the watchman's shoulders and grab him by the front of his chain-mail instead, lifting him off the ground. His armor chitters and clicks as it scrapes against the red stone wall. I nearly demand he tell me how the Duke could possibly know I was coming, but the answer strikes me before the words can pass my lips, blindingly obvious: Chatterly. My new, mysterious acquaintance must work for the Duke of Harnburg. Why else would he have instructed me to ask for him at the castle?
Instead I ask, "Why?"
The watchman's eyes flicker down toward my golden grasp, powerful fingers crushing the links of his hauberk.
"Because," he says, swallowing, "You're to be his guest. And he doesn't want us to provoke you."
I'm tickled by the futility of the gesture; Provoked or not, I'm going to kill them all. The only thing the Duke's consideration has bought him is time. My laughter echoes across the square, reverberating off the masonry, and I let go of the man's armor. He manages to keep his feet when he hits the ground.
"Your Duke is wise. Now. Tell me about yourself."
***
It takes almost an hour to extract enough information about corporal Sebastian Hoen of the Harnburg militia to satisfy me. I've gotten better with practice - I'm learning which questions to ask, and the best ways to keep a person talking when they don't necessarily feel like it.
As it turns out, he's actually quite interesting: created out of nothing, with only basic skill at arms and knowledge of how to live, the man has gone out of his way to make himself likable, but it hasn't quite worked out the way he'd hoped. Women find him attractive for breeding purposes, but he's never quite sure how to deal with that, and keeps finding himself getting chased out of other people's bedrooms by angry men - and on one occasion an angry mob, to the ongoing amusement of his fellow soldiers. He mostly spends his days practicing with the sword I just ruined, or carrying out mundane tasks, and his nights sleeping or out on patrol. In spite of his strength, which is above average for a secondary, Sebastian feels like nobody respects him, and suspects that although he may be acting out his original purpose, he's also wasting his life.
I tell him he's right, and leave him leaning downtrodden against the wall. The irony of his death at this moment would be brilliant, but sadly the cost would be too great. The Duke is expecting me, and breaking one of his toys would be too obvious; It would render much of my restraint up until this point useless.
The streets and squares surrounding the outer walls of Harnburg Castle are more ornate than the rest of the town. The gutters are cleaner, the rooftops are shingled rather than thatched, and the corners of the buildings are decorated - statuary at street level (mostly of rams and lions) and gargoyles in the eaves. In the starlight, as I circle towards the gatehouse, their open mouths and proud poses almost look like masks of terror - as though the stones alone can see what's soon to come.
Quote:Post 1: 383 words according to wordcounter.net
Post 2: 711 words according to wordcounter.net
1094 words total.
-Travel to Harnburg: accomplished