OOC: Warning, this post is long and rambly, but I'm working on editingit so um- I'll cross out this text once i'm done 8D
D:
ok this post is good enough ;_;
sorry kleine for it's specialness D:
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It had bee his first real taste of military life outside of the church, since the haunt of war was all around him by now as the mage camps, although most believed a good idea, were beginning to broil with unrest, and even some- had unfortunate uprisings and more unfortunately- escapes. So it was no surprise when the church was contacted, and then contacted again in hopes to find a solution to this bitter unrest in the north. A lot of the Northern territories were displeased, the armies needing to be dispatched every week in order to quell the midnight raids when they'd happen- and it seemed these mage radicals did not stop at just military posts, but had attacked lesser equipped towns as well.
No one was safe, and this was the constant reminder to the young priest Kentamin Dhelsbar as he clutched onto the silver necklace he wore and slid his fingers across it's smooth surface. Silently, he prayed as he journied North, and it was nearly a weeks travel to get to his assigned military outpost before he found himself finally there... in the Kilanthro's- And it was his first time visiting the mountains as well. Had he more time to enjoy it, he'd find the view beautiful- but there was hardly a moment's reprieve, for the moment he was taken into the post, he was brought in with the military commander's, and got a briefing on what was to be expected of himself as a new addition and also, a non military member, but a ranking fighter of the church. And it turns out, most of his day consisted of simply waiting... and training.
This was a relatively shabby outpost, with barely fifty men, one cook, maybe a dozen horses, and just a few quickly constructed cabins to house black powder, while the rest was constructed hastily out of animal hide, which housed the bunks that to Kentamin thought, were hardly comfortable. But Kentamin's refined life was already being tested during his time at the church- but it still hadn't quite prepared him for this.
THough he knew had he not joined the church so young, he would be in the military now, he still could not push past the fact that these limp cots he had to sleep on did nothing for his back and gave him a headache most of the week. He was barely settling in as he was briefed again on what was expected of him, but the first four days he was there- it seemed they were simply playing a waiting game, for news arrived that a rebel mage group was on the move, they just had no idea where.
They said they had come from further north, which, when he had a moment to contemplate it, Kentamin Dhelsbar had to wonder what sort of person would wish to even navigate through such uncomfortable mountains, for the environment here was wretched, and he found he hated the cold as he bundled up in as many furs as was offered, and as many as his parents would have sent with him. But he supposed nothing could have prepared him for the miserableness of a winter in such a steep mountain bed. The Kilanthros, he already decided, were not for him.
Part of him wondered why the church, of all places, would send someone with his 'experience' to here of all places, but he supposed it seemed as promising as any other place. Though he would have been more delighted to remain nearer to the cities, and thusly, nearer to real civilization. It seemed though, through tacticians, they deduced that since mordecai numbers were thinning and anyone with a power to thwart mages seemed valuable, that the number ten- and twenty-forth outpost was where he was desired, due to the intel that mages were on the move, and on the move near here. Still, it seemed absurd, why fight int he cold when the cold was already fighting you? But it was reminded to him, most thoroughly through his complaining, that the key here was capturing the enemy and bringing them in for 'retribution'. They wanted to make an example out of those who were trying to make an example out of them; to show them that the people of Angsar had no tolerance for such things, and being someone that could irradicate magics, and even though his powers were hardly polished, Kentamin found himself desirable among the army when resources were quickly waning. So he as as good as the ten and twenty-forth outpost was going to get and even this, to his dismay, had made the Colonel in charge laugh, which hardly helped with Kentamin's soured mood.
Though he saw himself as one not to complain, at least not over the logic of the use of his powers, but to say he was nervous those first few days in the wind and chill of the mountains would be an understatement. Waiting was always the hardest part, and the young man had very little patience and found himself not the most agreeable of company in the ten- and twenty forth outpost. Though it seemed the men had no trouble putting the boy in his place, and he was left many nights in misery, listening, half awake, to the howl of the winds and wolves.
These living conditions were atrocious! And he was sure to write to his parents about how bleak life was out here, and how he could not wait to return home after he served his country well. Though his mother had sobbed over his departure, Kentamin had been a ball of exictement and nerves, where as now, on his forth, or was it his sixth? night of waiting and not doing very much while he was there but train and pray and wait...
well...
It was wearing on him and kept him on edge, so while he was tossing and turning on his cot fitfully that fateful night, he finally had enough of it and threw off his fur blanket in a huff and sat up, raking his fingers through his unruly curls and sighed. This was truly not the life for him, and he now found himself wishing for the hard, itchy straw bed from the church over this shitty cot any day. Military life was taking it's toll on him, and he hadn't even truly begun it, for he was to be stationed out in this wretched place for the whole year!
Yes, he had been through drills and such, but nothing could prepare him for the bitter night air cutting through the tent flaps, or how bone chilling the wind and wild animal noises could be. It was like living near a grave, the only noises of humans were that from the drills conducted throughout the day, and when the men were more festive at meal time. And Kentamin found himself even then, miserable. Was the slime they fed them truly all they were meant to get? Even the plain wafers of the church were better than this shit!
Kentamin rubbed a hand down his face, pinching his fingers at the bridge of his nose as he worked at the crisps forming over his eyes and groaned. Though it seemed most of the other soldiers sharing his tent were fast asleep, Kentamin still looked around to see if any stirred. But nothing, just the howl of the wind was heard, which sent his teeth chattering before he got up and stoked the fires and returned to his bed post, realizing how dredfully cold it was and was thankful to return tot he meager heat his blanket had maintained in his short absence. But now that the tent was getting warmer, albeit not by much, he realized he had to piss.
Pissing in the arctic was the worst! Drop your drawers and go in the snow made him appalled the first time he heard of it, and in fact, actually made him rather constipated over the idea at first- for he was not used to releasing himself in 'public' in any such way, but it seemed this out post was anything but reforming to what the 'upper class' were used to. Not even a house or bowl to use for excrement! How uncouth! And now that he had to piss again only served to make him angry, especially when he was already frustrated over his lack of sleep- for all week it had been like this, he finding himself only able to procure but a few hours before he was awoken to start another day.... and another day if this pitiful waiting game.
Perhaps it would not be so bad had he the military training before he was brought here, but the church,(a nd his parents), had pampered him rotten; and he was not used to obliging others as much as one would assume a 'priest in training' at the church would have to endure, well... more specifically, a templar in training. But Kentamin was a different stock himself, in that he had youth to work against him. So when it was always said for them to go in pairs, Kentamin bitterly ignored this,for he hadn't resorted to any sort of friendship here, and a piss was a piss, so he saw himself out after bundling thoroughly for his brief trip outside, an action that had managed to awaken one of the elder men in his tent who only laughed at him and turned over in his bed, urging Kentamin to be quick and get back to sleep if he could.
"Your misery only affects the rest of the camp. Remember, kid, you're the new one here, and as fresh meat, you also bring fresh relief. We're all hoping to be able to use you in the battles ahead."
Kentamin snorted at that.
"Battles.." he muttered. "More like waiting for the turkey cakes on Angsar's day."
The elder man only chuckled which was erased the moment Kentamin turned away from him in a huff, throwing open the tent flap and stepping outside into the moonlight and howling wind. It was snowing as the youth stepped out behind a tree and, after the damn wind finally calmed, he found himself finally able to relieve himself. And it couldn't happen a moment sooner, for as he was readjusting his furs to return to his camp, a light pierced into the darkness forcing his attention it's way- and before he knew it, his tent was on fire.
For a long while, the young boy only gaped. It seemed like some sort of dream, and clearly he must have been imagining things, but once the smoke reached his nostrils, he found himself suddenly scrambling and groping about in order to react.
"FIRE! FIRE!" he shouted, fumbling around int he snow in a floundering attempt to put the fire out. And no sooner was he crying it out, the horns were sounded and Kentamin turned, breathing heavily in puffs of white breath away from the tent side to watch in horror as the shop nearest to him suddenly went KABOOM!
The noise was terrible, piercing his ear in an ungodly loud manner that had the boy doubling over and attempting to plug up his ears, though the fire was massive, and even from as far away as he stood, had felt the raw flames and knew, once he opened his eyes and saw the effects, that several of the tents nearby had been completely destroyed- men in cluded, as they had gone up in flames in mere seconds, and the fire, so intense and tall, it left him gaping in fear.
Reality took seconds later to bleat into his head, and soon the young templar was scrambling. Water and snow were called for to put out the flames, and the outposts walls had their four corners lit now in attempts to see how this happened, who could have done it- and as the chaos was raging on around him and he heard the answer
"The mages have attacked!"
Kentamin's eyes instantly shot to the dark, and being just at the edge of the out post, found himself catching a fleeting form disappearing into the woods. And it was here an unnatural rage over took him. All the fire and death behind him seemed to surge through him and propelled him out into the night as he took off charging, and spewing back towards whatever men might hear him (if any at all)-
"The mages! I see them! I see one! I won't let them get away!"
It was his time to shine, and he was NOT about to let this moment go. He had waited too long for this! (even if it had not eve been a week!) So like an eager young hound he tore off, boots cutting into the snow as he followed the shadowed form of Olive, one hand to his sword, with blue eyes cutting forward, cleaving through the trees and glaring at his prey.
"You will pay for what you've done, mage! I will cut you down and you will hang for treason in the name of the church!" his voice barked out, and forward he continued to dash, glaring as some trees broke and more snow would fall over him. But Olive's tracks, he could now see, fresh in the moonlight, as he continued to scramble after her, gaining grounds as white hot breath trailed behind him.
"You will not get away!"