Dark Age Of Camelot: A Bitter Taste

Chapter 5: A Bitter Taste Part 1

I had thought it odd, even still.

Once I knew that the non-descript building was the school for those aspiring young Rogues hoping to become either assassins or archers, it still did not seem right. Hrut had taken a small amount of money from me as tuition and to cover the cost of the rather brittle-seeming broadsword he gave me as a training weapon, but that is where my expectations stopped being fulfilled.

I asked him why there were no other students about. He simply looked at me, and told me they were off in the nearby lands finding their skills for themselves ... a much better way to learn, he added. He showed me a cramped quarters room in the back, a place, he told me, where I could occasionally find a spot to rest my head for a moment. There was even a small pit and some wares - " ... for cooking the flesh of the beasts you kill," Hrut said, "And I hope your diet is more meat than roots and vegetables."

I knew exactly what he meant, and I would not disappoint him and myself by resigning to the pastoral life of a farmer.

He taught me some basic combat stances and moves with the sword. I thought the weapon seemed clumsy and brutish for a person trying to learn the arts of quick and nimble combat, but I said nothing to my trainer. He then quickly sent me out to speak to another kobold in town - Erekith.

This Erekith was something of a minor politician here in Vasudheim, though not so successful that he was not subject to exchanging words with young Rogues such as myself. He held a thinly disguised disdain in his eyes as I approached. I simply told him that I had been sent by Hrut, and his demeanor changed somewhat as he explained to me that the village was enduring a problem. It seemed some impish creatures known as wildlings were sneaking in at night and stealing from the less secure merchant booths and shops on the outskirts of town. The problem was not apparently worthy of the experienced Jarls of the Realm Army, and so he said that if Hrut had sent me here, then I must be tasked with helping to solve the problem.

I crouched, then, in the long grass, not far from the village at all, a rustling stream to my right, and I peered across the short distance at the creature. I held the hilt of my sword tightly in my right fist, forgetting already how Hrut had instructed me to hold the blade firmly by not overly-so. I was frightened.

The creature did not seem like much. It was short, moreso even than the average kobold, though it was certainly possessed of less intelligence. Its skin was varying shades of gray and very rugose, and in its face and head, it did seem an imp. It was huddled over something, muttering, and I supposed it was some bauble it had snatched from the town.

Such was my duty, then, as I had been instructed by both my trainer and Erekith, and I had been asked to stalk and kill three of these beasts and return their ears to Erekith as proof of my having done what I could to help ease the problem of their thievery.

I tried to put my own sense of morality out of this. I thought killing them was rather harsh punishment for their stealing of some things, but if I were to be so plagued by shadows of right and wrong, then I should dispose of this sword and return to the fields of my father. I gripped the hilt tighter.

It tilted its head slightly toward me, and I wondered if it had heard the gripping of leather. Hrut had also taught me the bare rudimentary skills of stealth, and I tried to remember those now, hoping the thing would not see me. Its large, bulbous eyes scanned about, seeming to glide right over me. I tried so hard not to think of the hobgoblin snake-finder Gorj had killed. I tried not to think about Gorj or my father, and the weakness they had made me feel.

It was quite sudden really, and I suppose in my attempts to not think of Gorj and my father, an anger had seeped about me. I snarled, though I did not realize it until later, and I lunged at the thing.

Hrut had also told me about surprise, and how it was a Shadowblade's best friend, and I know I surprised the wildling. It turned toward the threat, but I could see it was shocked and taken off guard. I lunged with my practice sword, and I got it as it dodged away, shearing a large wound in its side. Everything was going so fast, seeming to move in a speed of disoriented time much the opposite as the endless moments that claimed me when Gorj and his "friends" interrupted me that time at wash.

The wildling swiped at me with its claws, and I felt a pain as it tore at my side, though the wound it gave me was quite minor. I slashed again with the sword, and the creature made no effort to defend itself. The blade buried itself atop the thing's left shoulder, digging in quite close to its neck. A dark spray of blood spewed out. I tried not to think of the hobgoblin snake-finder.

The wildling clawed at me again, missing me, and I realized I had deftly evaded the attack, just as my trainer had taught me to do. I turned, using the momentum of the evade, and came back around, swinging the blade with all the force I held. This time, the creature did try to defend, and it threw up its arms and ducked. My own arms seeemed to move of their own accord, shifting the strike downward, shearing past the thing's limbs and colliding with its head.

I stood there for a while ... watching.

I still held the end of the sword, both hands gripped about the hilt. The other end of the blade was quite well stuck in the wildling's head. It had writhed and struggled for a bit on the metallic intrusion, but it seemed dead now. Trying to wash my brain free of its debilitating thoughts, I pulled at the sword until it unstuck itself from the wildling's head.

I kneeled down, looking close at the thing. I then fished around until I found the bauble it had been caressing. It was some dingy jeweled thing. It seemed quite worthless to me, but I pocketed it, thinking I could sell it for a few coppers. I then realized the creature was wearing tattered leather leggings, and though they were not much for armor, they were better than what I wore for protection. I removed them from the corpse and put them on my own legs. They were a bad fit, obviously too short, but they would do for now.

And I could not forget the ear.

I stood back, looking about me, wondering if any of its friends would come to aid, though the silence of the aftermath was quite total now. I smelled the blood and death on my sword ... on me. I felt the weight of the twice stolen bauble in one pocket - in the other, an ear dripping with fresh blood - and the new protection of the old leggings.

I was changing already ... becoming.

Chapter 6: A Bitter Taste Part 2

The other two required kills had been much easier, and now I stood in the shadows waiting for my moment to approach Erekith.

I learned much while out there, killing some other beasts I happened upon in my effort to fulfill this task. I also began to realize what Hrut meant by true learning coming out there in the wild and not in the confines of some classroom. The third wildling, which I finally found after some hours of exhausting hunting, stood no chance. I snuck up behind it as it drank from a nearby lake, and I stabbed it through the back, impaling it easily. It tried to turn and flee and fight and scream all at once. Then it was dead.

So, I stood there, waiting for the busy kobold Erekith to find a free moment, three wildling ears in my pocket, and even more of the tattered leather armor upon my frame. I had moved my training sword to my back, for it seemed easier to carry that way when not in battle.

The other norseman and kobold speaking to Erekith chuckled, and I could not help but eavesdrop a little.

"She was a fine looking one, I can assure you," Erekith said.

"Well, it will be a shame if she does not make it back, then," the norseman replied.

"I would hope she does!" Erekith exclaimed, "Those wildlings are frail creatures. Even one not trained in battle such as myself should be able to slay one."

They all laughed at this, and I realized they were talking about me.

"But you would never soil your hands so," added the other kobold.

"Of course not," Erekith snorted, "That is why we have these scurrilous rogues and vikings all over town ... to do our dirty work."

I peeled forth from the shadows then, and they all three started to see me. I had realized something else while out there learning my first kills, and I now knew that sometimes one's passion, or lack of, could help one seem more indistinct and aid in hiding. I let the full brunt of my anger flow out of me like hot waves, and they felt it.

"Nylithil ... oh!" Erekith breathed, then he tried to regain his composure, " I see you have-."

I grabbed his wrist in a blinding flash, and with my other hand, I thrust the three ears in his open palm.

"Ah, ... yes," he smiled, still trying to gain himself, "Well done."

He motioned, then, for an assistant to come over, and he passed the disembodied ears to the young sycophant, wiping his hands on the other's robes before he dismissed him. I noticed the norseman staring at me, trying to drink in my body, so I steeled my eyes into his, letting him sense the hate, the rage, the blood, and he turned his eyes away.

"This is for you," Erekith said, handing me some coins from his own purse, "I will pass on word of your accomplishment to your trainer."

I took the money, noting that it seemed a somewhat decent amount. Into my pocket it went, replacing the space left by the ears.

"I am sure those troublesome beasts will bother us no more," said another mouth.

I turned to see the norseman giving voice, trying, it seemed, to earn my favor. I noted a look of disappointment on Erekith's features, and I knew the more practiced politician sensed this as a mistake - the norseman attempting to appeal to me.

"As if they ever did," I uttered, my voice low and grating.

I again quieted the foppish man with my unblinking eyes, then turning them to Erekith for a last look, I abruptly left the building, heading back for the school.

I stormed in, again finding Hrut alone and toiling with his shelves. He turned to see who it was, and I knew he was going to say something, but my demeanor halted his tongue. He moved nearer me, and I stopped, and he let his eyes again appraise me as they had done at our first encounter.

I knew what he was seeing - the wounds and dirt of the hunt upon me, the dried blood on the training sword and upon my own clothes, the armor I had pilfered. He nodded once.

"Perhaps you should get cleaned up," he suggested, "You have earned it."

He turned to go back to his chores.

"I cannot wash away what has soiled me," I said to his back.

He did not turn, only continued his arranging.

"Is young Nylithil already giving up?" he asked, "Barely looked in the face of death and cannot handle what she sees?"

I violently emptied my pockets on the floor, tossing out the silver pieces from Erekith along with the few baubles I had found on the slain wildlings. This got Hrut's attention, and he turned to me.

"Erekith used me," I said, peering into his eyes, "And so did you."

He glared back at me, though not with the same anger I held, but he still did not speak.

"Those wildlings were no threat," I continued, "Erekith would not even give me the time of day until I told him you sent me, then he was all too eager to task me with 'helping the town'," I related, sarcasm in my tone, "The wildlings will continue to breed on the outskirts of town, because they find it advantageous to live so near a settlement, and then another Rogue will come along, and you will send them out to kill more of those helpless beasts."

"They come into town and steal from us," he said.

"This!?" I veritably shouted, pointing at some of the gold-sheened baubles, "Even if they did steal these, what are they worth? A half dozen coppers at most. And that is the worth of their lives?"

"Ignorant beasts. Nothing more. Do not lament their death."

"Now they are ignorant beasts?" I asked, "If they are so ignorant, how are they smart enough to steal?"

He stepped closer, then, honing his eyes even more and staring up at me.

"You are right, young Nylithil," he said, not faltering in the least from my accusing gaze, "They are no real threat. At the behest of another, you went out and killed three weak creatures, intelligent creatures, and brought back proof of your deadly deed. And you were then paid for it," he continued, "And you learned from it."

I realized my righteousness was fading.

"Yes," he nodded, "Get used to it," he said, and he shot his index finger out and stabbed it once against my chest for good measure, "You came here looking to become a Shadowblade. Do you think you will never draw the blood of the innocent or the helpless?" and then he chuckled, "Go home, then, if you think that. Or stay here and become a tool of death. And you will be used. Become a politician like that snivelling Erekith if you want to sit up on high and dole out what is right and wrong. Or stay here, and soon you will become a Shadowblade, and you will learn that there is no right and wrong. You do what you must, and you survive."

He turned away again, going back to his trinkets. I stood there, silent.

"Now, go wash. You will find food in the kitchen. Sleep, too, if you can. Then I will train you further."

I turned to walk away and do as he instructed.

"And if you leave that money on the ground, I will give it to those out there begging for alms."

I thought of the old, toothless man I first encountered, but then I thought of the young Viking who seemed not so needy.

I postponed my exit to bend down and retrieve the coins and baubles to add to my own meager purse.