Post by megaly on Apr 7, 2006 15:54:40 GMT -5
Da was a simple man. I never knew my ma. Though most of my life I saw him carrying a pitchfork or hoe, I knew he also could carry a sword... and mean business with it. He was a farmer, though his crops weren't the usual kind. No corn or wheat, no carrots or beans. He loved the trees. I grew up on pears and peaches ripe to perfection. Crisp apples and plums. He turned a pretty good business with his fruit too.
He taught me more than how to grow fruit though. He taught me his code of honor. He taught me to love the land and the simple folk that worked it. He taught me my first lessons with a sword as well. He thought you should know how to fight for what was yours, how to defend your own rather than depend on others to do it for you.
It was hard for me at first. I was a fairly small girl. The old longsword he used was nearly as long as I was tall. The first time I picked it up, I could hardly lift it. As time went though, and I kept at it, it got easier and easier. I gained skill with the blade, then the old sledgehammer he kept in the tool shed, anything that I could turn into a weapon. Even my bare hands.
He never pressured me to take over the orchards as I grew older. He always told me the Light would lead me where I was meant to be. Well, I've never been much of a believer in the Light. It was the bandits that showed me where I belonged.
They came in one night, sneaking through the orchard, toward our house and those of our neighbors. I guess they thought farmer folk were easy prey. We were a pretty mixed bunch; some could fight, others could do little more than sling a skillet. But we banded together and with stubborness alone ran them off.
The Stormwind Army showed up the next day.
I saw friends and neighbors die that night. I wondered long afterwards how many could have been saved if the army had come sooner. I wanted to do something. Be part of something to help the common man. I wanted to get into a position where I could help make sure the soldiers were where they needed to be, when they were needed.
Da said the only way to do that was from the inside. So I signed up. Yep. Megaly, pride of the orchard, joined the army. I had grand dreams of leading great battles to drive the forces of evil away from those least able to protect themselves.
After the first year, I still had a few dreams. Some determination.
After the second year, most of them were faded and tarnished.
It was during the third year they were crushed completely.
My company had just returned to Stormwind from a six month stay in Lakeshire. Redridge isn't exactly my idea of a pleasant visit, much less an extended tour. We thought we were back in Stormwind for a two week break before heading out again. But no sooner had we marched in the gates, and we were sent out again. This time to Stranglethorn Vale.
I hate that place. I hate the bugs, the thick, warm air, the animals, the strange sounds in the night, all of it! I hate it. But off we went. Slogging through the jungle.
Report we had was that a band of orcs had set up a military post on the Cape. We were to clear them out. With everything else down there to threaten decent folk, last thing we needed was an army of orcs breathing down our necks.
We made our way through the brush to where this "military compound" was supposed to be. When we arrived there was nothing there but three shabby huts and a few rows of crops being worked by a family of orcs. There were no warriors. No soldiers. Just a handful of orc farmers. Farmers! I never thought of orcs working the land, but there they were, out there planting, weeding, hoeing. Just like my Da. A couple of males, a few females and a pack of squealing children.
I felt sure this couldn't be the target. What threat could a few farmers be? When the Captain began giving orders on how to conduct the attack, I felt my stomach began to churn. I'd come to the army to fight warriors, demons, whatever evil they wanted to throw me at. Not farmers.
Well, I've never been very subtle. I protested, he gave me a few orders, I protested again. By the time all was said and done, I'd done enough damage to three of my company that a healer had to be called, and I woke up days later bound hand and foot, on a wagon headed back to the city for court-martial.
I guess I got pretty lucky. I could have been executed or in the very least imprisoned in the Stockades for the rest of my life. I guess they were all full up of prisoners that day. I was stripped of my rank and commission and banished from the city.
I didn't go back to my Da. I couldn't face him. So I spent a lot of time wandering. Sleeping in trees, haystacks, barns. Picking up work where I could. Along the way I met a couple crazy gnomes that decided to tag along with me every step of the way.
I managed to finally ditch them for a while when I took a job as a bodyguard in Stormwind. Yep. Seemed I'd changed enough that when I walked back in to town, nobody recognized me. Found me a nice fat job watching over some pampered aristo maid. I thought it was easy money.
That's how I ended up here. I haven't anywhere to go since that incident. So I just hoped I could bunk down in a barn or something here for a while. Maybe lend my sword where its needed.
Maybe, just maybe...
He taught me more than how to grow fruit though. He taught me his code of honor. He taught me to love the land and the simple folk that worked it. He taught me my first lessons with a sword as well. He thought you should know how to fight for what was yours, how to defend your own rather than depend on others to do it for you.
It was hard for me at first. I was a fairly small girl. The old longsword he used was nearly as long as I was tall. The first time I picked it up, I could hardly lift it. As time went though, and I kept at it, it got easier and easier. I gained skill with the blade, then the old sledgehammer he kept in the tool shed, anything that I could turn into a weapon. Even my bare hands.
He never pressured me to take over the orchards as I grew older. He always told me the Light would lead me where I was meant to be. Well, I've never been much of a believer in the Light. It was the bandits that showed me where I belonged.
They came in one night, sneaking through the orchard, toward our house and those of our neighbors. I guess they thought farmer folk were easy prey. We were a pretty mixed bunch; some could fight, others could do little more than sling a skillet. But we banded together and with stubborness alone ran them off.
The Stormwind Army showed up the next day.
I saw friends and neighbors die that night. I wondered long afterwards how many could have been saved if the army had come sooner. I wanted to do something. Be part of something to help the common man. I wanted to get into a position where I could help make sure the soldiers were where they needed to be, when they were needed.
Da said the only way to do that was from the inside. So I signed up. Yep. Megaly, pride of the orchard, joined the army. I had grand dreams of leading great battles to drive the forces of evil away from those least able to protect themselves.
After the first year, I still had a few dreams. Some determination.
After the second year, most of them were faded and tarnished.
It was during the third year they were crushed completely.
My company had just returned to Stormwind from a six month stay in Lakeshire. Redridge isn't exactly my idea of a pleasant visit, much less an extended tour. We thought we were back in Stormwind for a two week break before heading out again. But no sooner had we marched in the gates, and we were sent out again. This time to Stranglethorn Vale.
I hate that place. I hate the bugs, the thick, warm air, the animals, the strange sounds in the night, all of it! I hate it. But off we went. Slogging through the jungle.
Report we had was that a band of orcs had set up a military post on the Cape. We were to clear them out. With everything else down there to threaten decent folk, last thing we needed was an army of orcs breathing down our necks.
We made our way through the brush to where this "military compound" was supposed to be. When we arrived there was nothing there but three shabby huts and a few rows of crops being worked by a family of orcs. There were no warriors. No soldiers. Just a handful of orc farmers. Farmers! I never thought of orcs working the land, but there they were, out there planting, weeding, hoeing. Just like my Da. A couple of males, a few females and a pack of squealing children.
I felt sure this couldn't be the target. What threat could a few farmers be? When the Captain began giving orders on how to conduct the attack, I felt my stomach began to churn. I'd come to the army to fight warriors, demons, whatever evil they wanted to throw me at. Not farmers.
Well, I've never been very subtle. I protested, he gave me a few orders, I protested again. By the time all was said and done, I'd done enough damage to three of my company that a healer had to be called, and I woke up days later bound hand and foot, on a wagon headed back to the city for court-martial.
I guess I got pretty lucky. I could have been executed or in the very least imprisoned in the Stockades for the rest of my life. I guess they were all full up of prisoners that day. I was stripped of my rank and commission and banished from the city.
I didn't go back to my Da. I couldn't face him. So I spent a lot of time wandering. Sleeping in trees, haystacks, barns. Picking up work where I could. Along the way I met a couple crazy gnomes that decided to tag along with me every step of the way.
I managed to finally ditch them for a while when I took a job as a bodyguard in Stormwind. Yep. Seemed I'd changed enough that when I walked back in to town, nobody recognized me. Found me a nice fat job watching over some pampered aristo maid. I thought it was easy money.
That's how I ended up here. I haven't anywhere to go since that incident. So I just hoped I could bunk down in a barn or something here for a while. Maybe lend my sword where its needed.
Maybe, just maybe...
