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New Goals
Hearing Lord Jetir's words struck a huge mental blow to Boro. He had resented his father, but only for his role in the fall of his family. In truth, Boro still loved and idolized his father for his legendary skill and strength. His goal to be the greatest blade master was to restore his family name and honor; a large part of that goal was so that people no longer said Bora the Bold's name with spite. How could he not want to be like the man he so admired, the father that he loved and hated too?
Boro's mother spent much of his childhood, after Bora's disgrace, telling Boro that his father was a great man and that if he could have done things differently, then he would have. She was convinced that he did the best he could to protect Galaos and bring about peace. But no amount of well speaking could fill the hole left in her when he had died and they had become destitute. That angered Boro even more, becaus
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Although he was yet to be acknowledged as a blade master, Boro was a few steps away from that title officially. There were a few ways to obtain the title of blade master. The most common way was to defeat a titled master in a duel, whether that be a duel to the death or not, beating someone who holds that title, usually witnessed by others to authenticate the claim, would allow one to become a blade master. Furthermore, being tutored by an acknowledged master, and in turn being acknowledged by that master, was another way for one to finally obtain that title. Boro had yet to have either of those occur yet, so Littume's request was highly unusual. As Boro could not acknowledge Littume's sword skill as a master, then his tutelage would only be good for further Littume's skill. Training under someone not yet a master, was something not often done. A perspective master would only seek out those that could ack
Sword Dancer On the Road Again
Boro and Littume left the city in the quiet of early morning. They and a handful of soldiers as an escort, slowly marched down the cobbled streets of Helfa, people were just beginning to fill the streets, preparing merchant stalls and storefronts for another day of business. They barely gave the small procession a second glance as they went about there morning. There were twelve of them total, Littume, Boro, nine of Lord Jetir's strongest household guards, and his most trusted officer. When they arrived at a private gate house, Boro was surprised to see Lord Jetir himself there to see them off. He had an entire procession of guards of his own, one of them held the reins of two horses laden with packs and supplies. Lord Jetir clapped Boro on the shoulder with one hand, the other holding a long folded piece of cloth, and told him that the two pack horses were his, to feed and supply himself while on the road. He also handed Boro a fat sack that clinked heavily when dropped in
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The city of Kolomet was even more immense then Helfa. It was also far older, and its known history stretched back for nearly millennia. However, were Helfa was a city of colors, this one was the opposite, all the buildings were grey and drab and lacked the same majesty. But Kolomet was made for a different reason then the last. Kolomet was a fortress encircled by walls twice as tall as any he'd ever heard of, let alone seen with his own eye's. According to all reports, the lord of this city, Amara Trili, was a life long military man, his own father having fought for the Kings army right up until he died in combat. The man had been nearly seventy years at his death. Rumor said the the elderly lord had been sick for many years before the war that drew him from retirement started. They had been planning on using that as a way to bring Amara in to the fold. When Boro and Littume arrived in the office of the cities Lord. He was certain this mission would be a failure. All a
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Boro pulled his blade from the throat of the woman he had killed. Using her thick woolen cloak to wipe away the blood already beginning to freeze on the gleaming metal. He felt a burning sensation in the left side of his abdomen and saw a wide puncture mark in his steel armour. Dammit all, another wound to tend to Boro thought angrily. He had no time to tend to it now though, as a battle was raging all around him. Boro quickly found his unit and used them to cover him while he hastily ripped off another chunk of his undershirt to staunch the bleeding. As soon as he had it secured to the wound he jumped back into the fighting. All around him was chaos, men and woman meeting with swords, spears or maces, the sounds of metal ringing against metal, and the screams of fear and pain when cold steel parted hot flesh. His own wounds burned and throbbed terribly but over the sounds of agony, his own seemed to pale in comparison. The smell of blood, piss and shit was becoming
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Boro stepped back when he saw the warriors face. In the briefest of time, memories filled Boro's mind. Pleasant nights training under moons light, days filled with laughter and happiness, evening arguments and debates on philosophy and war strategy. A tear threatened to fall from his eyes but he snapped himself back to the battlefield and blinked away the tear. Nila's eyes too seemed filled with surprise, not just at her defeat, but also at meeting with an old friend on the battlefield. All around them the battle still raged, although the sounds of war seemed to be decreasing, he knew this to mean that he had won and the battle would soon be over. He shouted for his guards to take her prisoner, even as Nila herself looked around for her own, all whom lay slain or injured beyond help. Injured, alone, disarmed and defeated she had no choice but to follow along as several of his own guards lifted her to her feet and took her away from the battle. Boro reassessed the battlefield, though
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Several days passed before Boro and Lady Jesa's forces began to move again. During the day Boro did his best to stay as far from Lady Jesa as possible, but he frequently found the task near impossible, she attended every meeting. Be it a meeting for the leaders or just a small counsel meeting to resolve minor disputes in camp, she was there. She never made comment about their night in her tent but Boro often felt, and saw, her eyes on him and although she did not speak of it, she also did not shy away from being close to him. She would wait for the rest of the officers to leave to try catching him alone, and despite him doing his best to make excuses to leave, she had successfully caught him alone several times. She continued to court him when she caught him alone, offering to sit with him for meals, or attend him while they were on the move, once she even asked for a private audience in his own tent... In front of several of his own officers. Before long she will be waking up early
Sword Dancer The First Steps, Age: 376
Bora took a cautious step forward. He moved slowly and with purpose, his movements calculated. He held a slender sword out in front of himself. It's single edge glinted menacingly with the faint light of the fire behind him. Across from him stood a foe who was equally, if not more so, confident in their own sword skills. His opponent held his blade hilt with both hands. Bora saw a flash of amusement in their eyes from behind their helmet. They circled one another like two feral alley cats. Each waiting for the other to lapse in their attention. Seconds stretched out in to what seemed like an eternity, till finally a faint scream from the depths of the burning city called out. It was then that the helmeted opponent lunged forward with the grace of a life long swordsman. Their blades met, sending sparks flying outw
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