Private Tales Brothers in Arms

[Gerra]

Stripped to waist and wearing only a loincloth, the emperor stood in the burning sands outside the hidden city of Rhaqoum, home to three of the Abtati great tribes.

He held a wooden staff and twirled it inexpertly, eyeing the elf who stood across from him. They were alone here, nothing but the sky above them and the sand beneath their feet.

Gerra relished the rare moment of peace.

“Come, Ashuanar, instruct me on the way of the spear.”

 

[Ashuanar]

Spending a day with his father was rarer and rarer in those final days. Things had been hectic with all the talk of slavers nearby. But he'd been having so much fun tagging along with him, he'd hardly noticed when his father began to act strangely.

"These sands as sacred, Ashuanar..." his voice came from deep within, like a distant drum, "for millennia have they carried our steps, and drank of our blood. But even as our deaths quench its thirst, so too will it quench ours."

His hand reached down, stretching out from beneath well worn and tattered cloth. He took a handful from the ground and lifted it up before him. Ashuanar watched as the sand slipped through his father's fingers and was taken back by the wind.

"There will come a time my son, when things are no longer as they are... I believe you will one day see with your own eyes."

He knelt in front of him to meet his son's gaze - being little more than a child at the time. Ashuanar remembered how large his hand felt when it rested on his shoulder. His eyes were heavy with grief, welled with tears.

Then, he understood what changed... he saw behind his father, smoke rising into the sky just beyond the next ridge. There - his caravan, his family. His home. His eyes shot back to his father's, who now looked sternly upon him.

"Go my son... run."


​

He too stood with his chest bare to the sun, and his hair was caught in the wind. He breathed in deeply through his nose. It was a day just like that day. The wind, the heat, the excitement. He was joyed when Gerra had invited him to such an outing, it felt more like home. Like the games they would play back then, testing one another.

Standing across from the Emperor, he looked... taller. To stand in opposition of him was far different than standing by his side.

“Come, Ashuanar, instruct me on the way of the spear.”

He brandished his weapon, and took a wide stance and held for a moment, "I am honoured."

He charged forth, the staff held tightly behind him in his right hand, pressed against his forearm. As he drew near, he flipped it up and around, grasping it with his free hand as well and swung down upon Gerra, clutching the staff closer to his end to afford more striking power.

Gerra

 

[Gerra]

The general attacked with ferocity that made Gerra smile tightly, his staff making a whistling noise as he whipped it through the air. The half-giant brought his own up and caught Ashuanar’s. Wood clacked on wood. Reverberations trembled up Gerra’s hands.

Grunting, he shoved at Ashuanar with a two handed grip, brute strength undeniably overpowering, but lacking any finesse or art - unless there is an art to the charge of a rhinoceros.

 

[Ashuanar]

He gave as mighty a swing as he could muster, indeed holding nothing back. It was met with what only Ashuanar could compare to a fortress. Gerra stopped him dead, and then with a force like the Vizier had never before felt he was shoved back. He stumbled, but planted his feet and slid to a halt.

Amazing!

He was truly powerful, exhibiting physical strength no doubt only one of Gerra's stature could possess.

Ashuanar stood upright and moved a few paces forward, maintaining his distance from the Emperor.

Fighting him in single combat would be absolute suicide...

"My lord, your strength is as vast as the ocean of your mercy! It has done me great honor to serve you, and to only ever continue to, and to fight for you with all my heart... as I shall do now!"

And once more he advanced, but this time he would not strike out in such finality. No instead he would rely on his speed and agility to counter Gerra's indomitable strength. To parry instead of block, to feign instead of strike. He would dance with Gerra, and indeed show him. He would show him just why the Abtati, above all others, were worthy of him.

 

[Gerra]

Again and again their staves clacked against one another, but Ashuanar's skill and speed soon proved superior to the half-giant's raw and unrefined strength. A blow snuck past Gerra's guard and struck him in the ribs, then another on the shoulder. He grunted at the impact and took a step back. They would leave bruises, but they were well earned.

Sweat beaded down his bare chest, which rose and fell as he struggled to regain his breath. Too many long nights amid a haze of hashish and women and not enough time in the forge or in the training square.

"Well struck, Ashuanar, but please do not flatter me as do those others at court."

Gerra planted his staff in the sand and leaned on it.

"I know you mean well, but do not be afraid to speak your mind to me, nor feel the need to swaddle me with honeyed words like a mewling babe. I will not punish you for saying what is in your heart."

 

[Ashuanar]

One solid hit, and then another.

And a reprieve.

As Gerra stepped back he too relented. His breath was heavy, and sweat stung his eyes. He measured Gerra in that moment. He was quite formidable. Ashuanar had lived his whole life by the spear, out of necessity, and as a child even played games revolving around its mastery.

But had this not been so and his speed just that much less, then Gerra's strength would have surely crushed him. In fact, in more than one instance the fire giant had nearly done just that.

Likely a mercy, that he had not.

The Emperor's spear struck the ground with a thud, and in respect Ashuanar took the same posture.

"I know you mean well...
I will not punish you for saying what is in your heart."

Ashuanar straightened, unsure at first of what to say. He bowed his head, "forgive me, it is only that I have never known such rewards as those you have given me, and my people."

"It is still quite hard to believe... I know that you are good and just. I have seen it. But I fear of only my own failings."

He looked off into the horizon, his thoughts drifting off among the dunes, to the memory of a time long gone. Ignorant times. Blissful times. He looked back to Gerra.

"I have failed my people... my family... greatly, my lord."

He froze.

Never before had he expressed such things.

"I would only have it that I would not fail you as well."

 

[Gerra]

The half-giant frowned, fingers curling and uncurling around the wood of his staff. Ashuanar seemed almost too sincere. It reminded him of Maho before the Battle of Ninagal. Would Ashuanar be able to understand and accept the... practicality of some of Gerra's actions? He was also desperate to please Gerra.

"You say you failed your people. How? I have not heard you speak of it, but I do not wish to bring you shame if you want it buried beneath the sands."

 

[Ashuanar]

"No," he said.

It had been buried for too long now already.

"My family was slaughtered, and enslaved. But I, my lord... I ran. Only to be captured anyway some weeks later, no less. But still - had I remained perhaps something would have been different. I never saw my brothers or sisters after that day." He looked out across the sands yet again, "and they are yet young, like I. Likely still toiling under the merciless rule of some awful slave owner, as I too once was."

"And now here I stand as a member of your court - across from the God Emperor himself, the King of all the land. I cannot help but feel... regret." He felt that perhaps had fewer of his people perished, then maybe another - more worthy, would have his seat.

"But I would not let this hinder me. I will ensure the army be made whole under your rule, and all else will be as it always has - secondary.

I would see that no others would suffer as I have.

And I will do what must be done."

He looked down to the golden armband, shining in the sun. He clenched his fist, determination coursing through his very soul. Memories of hardship and torment rushing over him, and then a clarity. His eyes lifted to meet Gerra's, with a fire - though dimmer than the giant's - akin to Emperor's own blazing stare.

 

[Gerra]

"Good. Draw upon your shame, your rage, your fear. They will sustain you when your body fails and all else seems ash."

Gerra kicked the bottom of his staff suddenly and sand sprayed toward Ashuanar's eyes as the half-giant took the staff in a two handed grip and thrust for the elf's stomach.

"Keep that inner fire bright," Gerra rumbled whipping his staff back and thrusting again, driving the blunt end toward the elf's legs.

"And together,"

He spun, hurling his staff like a boomerang toward his opponent, then sprang forward to grapple him.

"We will bring light to the dark places of this world."

 

[Ashuanar]

Yes.

He drew his hand up, guarding from some of the dirt. Staggering back, he managed a half defense from Gerra's strike by stepping aside and with his own staff, forcing Gerra's away.

"Keep that inner fire bright,"

It welled in him. ​

He leapt back, to avoid the strike for his legs. But for all his agility he still felt disorientation from the dust, and sudden attack. In his startled attempt to defend and hold his composure - for fear of face - he'd managed to escape the Emperor's initial blows. But the flung staff caught him off guard, and though he drew his weapon up in defence, the staff struck past. It was cushioned by his block, but broke his balance and caused him to drop his own staff.

Upon the sight of the half giant looming over him, he felt a surge of determination. He found his foot, and then with the second he bounded forward to meet Gerra head on.

"We will bring light to the dark places of this world."

They grasped each other, and with courage in his heart he challenged the God Emperor.

Gerra