"I'm serious, Marshal. This ain't always the best crowd to stick with. A lot of 'em… are bad people. Murderers and the like."
"I'm not an idiot, Darin."
"Just… promise me you's be careful, okay?"
"Fine," you say. "I promise."
"Good. Good." Darin nods repeatedly to himself. "Sorry for killin' the mood. How about we's go drink and party some more, aye? Best not waste good wine."
You smirk. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Next
You've lost track of the amount of wine you've had over the course of the past two hours.
In the presence of many of your old comrades, you feel much more at ease. Much more comfortable.
You're sitting at a table with a group of them, as well as a few inexperienced Kroridian soldiers. Darin is with you as well, seated to your immediate right.
It's a strange reunion, full of strange men. Men you thought you'd never see again.
"…and then I threw his damn severed testicles out into the swamp. He'd passed from blood loss already though, much to me own dismay."
Laughter rises up from the table, even from Darin.
You chuckle grimly. "The funny part is… that's one of the tamer stories from The War."
"And… in that one there was two separate pairs of balls gettin' cut off," one of the 'fresh' soldiers says. He takes a swig of his wine. "Sounds like a fun time."
You let out a laugh that bleeds into a sigh. "Aye… it was…" You trail off, staring into your own goblet, memories churning in the back of your mind.
Desiccated bodies float in the swamp.
Darin says, "Hey. Maybe we's shift topics. Away from The War, ay?"
They don't listen to Darin's plea.
One of the inexperienced Kroridians asks, "So then, Marshal… what's the craziest thing you've ever seen?"
Darin glances at you from the corner of his eye. He subtly shakes his head, silently trying to signal something to you.
You think about it for a few moments.
You think too much.
Memories you had barely suppressed since you entered Krorid bubble to the surface. Perhaps it's the drink in you, lowering your guard. Perhaps your nerves are getting to you.
You raise the goblet to your lips and drink your last sip of wine.
"It was… five years ago."
Next
Five Years Ago-
The town sits at the top of a plateau, its terrain acting as a natural fortification. There wasn't enough space for its inhabitants to construct walls, and they found little use for them with the jungle itself as a wall.
A decision they are now sorely regretting.
Columns of smoke rise into the sky. The horrid sound of screaming resounds in the clearing. It makes your stomach churn with disgust and your blood boil with rage.
Your army has spread out at the entrance to the clearing, readying themselves for battle. You stare at the columns of smoke and the steep plateau, crossbow in hand.
After a few minutes, a figure appears at the top, his own crossbow slung over his shoulder. He slides down the side of the plateau, stumbling forward and coming to a stop in front of you.