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Shadow of the Falls >> Chapter 1 >> part 1 by Clint Jaynes
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Corvax Volaticus stood silently high atop the bluff as he shielded his eyes from the glaring sun. He watched the marching army to the west move north towards the main mustard of the Twin Falls army. He stood there stroking his shaved chin for some time analyzing his enemies approach with his bird like eyesight. This was his normal position when deeply contemplating a problem that eluded him. This time was not any different though; he was studding the vacant expressions that hung on the men's faces. Depression had set in from trekking their horses into battle and it showed in their elongated strides.
"They have not the will to fight," Corvax noted with a gleam in his eyes as he turned to regard Muartin, his next in the chain of command.
Muartin brushed his wind blown auburn hair from his face, strained his eyes, and stretched his thin lanky neck to look at what appeared to him as just a black mass of animals on the stretched out plains. Though he could not see the approaching army the familiar feeling of the coming battle had him wincing more than once. He placed his hand on what use to be his right eye as a swirl of memories grabbed his thoughts. It was a memory of a fight with a far superior swordsman during one of the first battles with Liandor.
It had been almost three and a half years since he inherited the scar that left many questioning his abilities as a fighter, but the memory carried him on, it was a moment in time that for ever changed his life. During that battle those many years ago a naive Muartin stood his ground to defend his assigned post. Perhaps it was ignorance, or even pride that stead his feet, but Muartin met the heart of the battle as the proud leader approached with abandon. It cost Muartin in the form of an everlasting scar from his forehead to his right eye but not before Muartin finished the leader and his march to the gates of Twin Falls with the tip of his concealed dagger.
Muartin's memories shifted to the years that followed guided by his new found mentor Lord Volaticus. Impressed by the heart displayed by the young warrior, Lord Volaticus took Muartin and placed him in his envied tutelage. Many lessons were impressed upon him as he followed his mentor Lord Volaticus: many can wield a sword but few realize the sword really wields them, demons are found in ones own heart, and those that nurture others nurture themselves.
Shaking off the memories of the past Muartin pulled his leather armor down straightening it out as he slowly walked off the outcropping to look out over the one hundred mounted soldiers assigned to them. He looked on curiously as he let his eyes wander from one group of men to another as he thoughts of the final and most important advice repeated in his mind.
"And what of our troops do you see?" Muartin said as he raised his up turned hand sweeping it out to the men in the encampment trying to stress that the same plight had reached their soldiers. "I feel the anguish in their war worn eyes. They seek nothing other than the closing of this long brutish war, and I too would like to see that end."
Nodding his understanding at the depths of Muartins kindred thought, Corvax decided that it was time, whether they won or lost. Reassuringly Corvax stared at Muartin and said, "Then we must make the finale decidedly today."
A spark appeared in Muartin's eye as a sly smile slid across his scared face and he nodded his approval saying, "Today will be a good day after all."
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