Medievia Mudslinger

June 24th, 2002

Loyalty - By Rsukhaet

I miss my childhood, when life was so much simpler.

1st of Futility, Year 538 - I joined the ranks of the heroes today, proving my strength and skill. It was a great day. My bloodline father Dabufaern saw his bloodline grow and extend as it continued on through me. He just returned victorious from many clan feuds. My father had been fighting against other clans all over Medievia, one battle after another. He left when I was still young; I grew up without him. But we are reunited now, and nothing else matters. I wish he had seen me grow up, but I can't change the past. With my mother dead and my father off fighting wars, I raised myself, learning and succeeding through my own skill. I have earned it.

9th of Futility, Year 538 - I have wandered as a Hero for a week. And I found what I was searching for. No, not a silly quest or artifact, but a clan. I first thought of joining my father's clan, the Knights of the Righteous Path, but it doesn't seem like the clan for me. The Nation of Proven Champions does. They're a strong clan, bonded together, practically owning the lands of Medievia. I always wanted to become a member, but I was denied because I did not know enough. Now, as a Hero, I returned. I talked to the leader, Rufious.

"Hello" I telepathed.

"Hi" he quickly answered.

"I was, uhm, wondering if I could join your clan, I mean I was denied before because I wasn't a hero, but now I am."

"I see that. I have heard of your adventures." My face grew bright red as I tried to act casual.

"I-I-I could help your clan as a useful ally" I stuttered.

"Very well, you may join on a trial basis. Prove yourself and you will become a full-fledged member."

I was and still am ecstatic. They let me join! Now I can finally show them all I have learned.

"You won't regret it!"

10th of Futility, Year 538 - I was helping my father kill trolls today. They had attacked while we ventured across the land trading goods. Trolls are dumb creatures, and we easily overpowered them. A few slashes with a sword, a quick spell, and a corpse was all that remained. We continued on our trek, delivering the much needed goods to a town afflicted with plague.

15th of Futility, Year 538 - Many of the other members of the clan don't trust me. I don't know if its that they are jealous of my youth, but they ignore me when I know I could help them. They are rude and mean to me, even though I have done nothing to them. They try my patience, I can't stand being in a clan with them. This strife pulls apart the clan, but Rufious ignores it, valuing both clannies. Travriel, an older and experienced member, gives me the most trouble.

"Rookie, go back to your mommy" he yelled at me.

"Why do you hate me?" I demanded

"Why not? You don't belong here."

"I've earned it as much as you have old man."

He growled and smacked me, sending a line of blood down my face. I bit my pride and walked away, saving it for another time. I didn't want to lose my place in the clan because of a jerk.

18th of Futility, Year 538 - I like this clan. We do so much, and for the most part work together well. I'm trying my best to ignore Travriel and his kind, the scum of the clan. They don't care about the clan, they are here for themselves and that's it. Writing all this down makes me feel sane, that it's not just me. Relationships with my father are, well, stilted. I'm a different person from the one he knew, and so is he. But we are making up for lost time, and working together we are near invincible. He is still a member of the Knights of the Righteous Path clan. He has been in there for as long as I could remember. He helped found it. I was a member when I was younger and less experienced. My clan and his aren't enemies, but they aren't friends either.

22nd of Futility, Year 538 - My final test arrived, and it would prove to be so in several ways. It involved a trading route that is used to transport and sell goods - it runs through a dangerous area of forest where many ambushes have been set up successfully. My clan has heard of several people trading through and has decided to set up an ambush. Most of the members of the clan were there, including Rufious and Travriel. We hid throughout parts of the road, awaiting any traders.

"You idiot, you aren't hiding well enough" Travriel screamed at me. It was true, I wasn't paying attention, and my whole back was visible. I almost ruined everything, but I quickly moved into the shadows and foliage, disappearing from vision.

"Good, now stay that way" Rufious said. I respected him, he was a fair and just and experienced leader.

"Ok" Travriel said over the clan's mental link, "Dabufaern is coming through soon. He's our target. If we all attack him this should be easy."

"No! That's my father, leave him alone!"

"Don't attack Dabufaern, leave him out of this, there will be other people" Rufious told Travriel. I sighed, still not trusting Travriel.

At this time my father came around the bend, riding a midnight black horse and pulling a covered wagon behind him. He had no idea we were here, but he was safe, thanks to Rufious. I smiled, watching him ride his horse with ease.

Just then, Travriel jumped out of the shadows, knocking my father off his horse. At this point I wasn't sure where my loyalty lay, with my clan or bloodline, but Travriel forced me to make the decision. He raised his sword and started to bring it down upon my father who was lying on the ground. I sprung up and parried the blow, which missed my father by a hair. I glared at Travriel, seething with hate.

"Leave him alone, he's my father and you heard Rufious."

"I don't listen to Rufious. I never lose my target."

"Give up, you can't do this, you will have to kill me first." My father groaned and tried to say something, but I didn't hear it.

"Fine, if that's how you want it." He said, calling me out to a duel.

Although we were clannies, a duel is sacred and must be respected. An area of the forest was cleared, and a circle was drawn in the sand.

"Stay in the circle, first person to fall, give up, or die, loses" an elder member of the clan said monotonously, stating the rules. I nodded through each one.

We stepped into the circle, facing each other. We were both warriors, and we drew our swords, holding them out in front of ourselves. According to tradition, we crossed them together and bowed.

"Begin!"

We swiftly parted, wielding our swords in an offensive manner. Travriel was more experienced, but I had my youth and strength. I looked around. Everyone was watching, including Rufious and my father. I'm not sure what either of them were thinking.

Well I wasn't thinking either. I saw a flash and Travriel's sword came falling down on me. I barely dodged, rolling out of his sword's path. Still crouching, I swung my sword in a circle, aiming at his legs. He jumped over the arc of my sword, and counter attacked. Using the momentum of my spin I pulled the sword up and blocked his blow, sending his sword flying. Travriel mumbled a phrase, sending a powerful shockwave at me, knocking me to the floor and giving him a chance to retrieve his sword.

Travriel came running at me, wielding the sword high above his head. I chanted and sent a wave of plague at him, weakening him and taking part of his life. Travriel winced and came at me, barely hefting his large sword. I leaned down and tripped him, sending him rolling on the floor. I thrust my sword into his stomach, causing him to cry out, blood flowing from his body. A ghostly warhammer appeared in his left hand, and he smashed my left arm with it, shattering the bone.

I stepped back and uttered a few words, my hand glowing brightly as I healed my arm. I looked over at Travriel, who had taken the chance to heal his stomach. Our mana energies were drained and this had become a melee battle. We both had the same skill with a sword. He thrust, I parried, I feigned and slashed, he dodged.

With my remaining mana I had in reserve, I grasped Travriel and chilled him, weakening his bones. He dropped his sword, no longer able to hold it. I slowly walked toward him, honing in on my prey. Travriel kicked me in the face, sending blood into the air and me flying backwards. As I was recovering he focused his energy on a frosty ring he was wearing, sending flying shards of ice into my body. I fell to the dirt, almost unconscious.

Travriel grinned and walked toward me, sensing his victory. He pulled a dagger out of his pack and got ready to stab me. But I expected this and rolled away just in time, his dagger stabbing nothing but dirt. I kicked his hand, sending it spinning around him, leaving his dagger in the floor. Travriel stood up, his hand hanging limply, and he quaffed a healing potion - but he was still too weak to wield his sword, and therefore defenseless.

Travriel quickly leaned down to retrieve his dagger, but I kicked him in the face, sending him backward. He never got up. I walked over to him and thrust my sword down into his chest, sending his last breath out of his body. I pulled my sword out of his body, and shoved it into the dirt, cleaning the blood off it. I picked up my father and walked away. No one stopped me.

23rd of Futility, Year 538 - Travriel is dead, and his sympathizers were kicked from the clan and threatened in case they were seen again. I stepped up and took Travriel's place, having shown my loyalty. Rufious approved of it, even encouraged it. My father had had a stroke, which is why he fell. He hadn't had a rest in a while, and he collapsed. He will get better soon, I am sure. As for me, well, I have proved myself, and I have a new clan that needs me.

FRONT PAGE | MEDIEVIA HOME PAGE

Copyright (c) 1992-2015 Medievia.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved
Mudslinger is a trademark (Tm) of Medievia.com, Inc.
No portion of the MudSlinger may be reproduced without the express written consent of Medievia.com, Inc.