[Razor]

Synopsis: The entry of a King about a loyal and legendary warrior who served under him.


Journal entry marked: Giath

This is the story, not of my conquests, but of my comrade. It is a story I’ve decided to write myself. My conquests I’ve had scribed by handfuls of scholars, but I feel as though I must write this with my own two hands to give justice to the man within its pages. A small favor for the hundreds I owe him.

It starts long before my dream of kinghood, when I had my sights on no more than becoming a vassal of the warlord, Zak-rao. It was during that quest that I found Giath. He was coming into adulthood much like myself, but unlike I, he was strong of build and quite a handful with the blade.

As fate would have it, we met under less than admirable circumstances. It was the chaos of the Futton Civil War, and that chaos gave me a way to prove my worth to Zak-rao. I was leading a handful of men through the burning streets to reinforce the western lines.

Around corner I happened upon Giath, unarmed and backed into a dead end. Behind him was a family of eight or nine kids, a mother and a grandfather. Four Goblin mercenaries blocked their escape, blades already stained with Giath’s blood. Their goal, I would wager, were the older girls huddled behind Giath and whatever trinkets they might pull from the rest of the group’s lifeless bodies.

I hesitated, it wasn’t any of my affair, and wasting time and possible men to save civilians would not impress Zak-rao, but my conscience wouldn’t let me leave it at that. I ordered my men in after me. The four didn’t prove to be much against men with blades of their own.

As soon as the last mercenary fell, I was on my way, barely hearing the words of thanks as we sped off. Giath, I later learned, had lost so much blood he simply collapsed.

He woke two days later, as the war was dying down. Straight off he began tracking me down until he found me, where he pledged his undying allegiance to me. I was humbled, but put off at what I quickly realized was a slowness to his speech and his thought process. I believed him stupid, an animal no brighter than the oxen that pulled our wagons.

I didn’t want to be rude to him, but I was now a vassal and his offer was less than appealing. However, his determination was admirable and I found myself unable to turn him away.

In the following months I learned that he was not stupid as I had first thought. Stupid is being unable to learn or understand, which Giath was quite capable of. Rather, it took him longer to learn than others, but for those with enough patience and time, Giath could be taught anything, and once he understood it, he never forgot it. His most endearing trait was, however, his determination to succeed at any task I gave him. Rarely did he not. I came to rely on him, trusting him with duties I needed done at any cost, and he never once failed me.

I was also pleased and quite frankly shocked to find he was something to be reckoned with when he had a blade in his hand. He was not quick of mind, so he relied on instinct and sheer ferocity in battle. He used it to save my life more than once, and hence I would try to free him of his promise to protect me with his life, but he would refuse me each time.

As time stretched on, my ambitions began to grow, but the one constant was Giath. I began to think of him as something of a pillar which I used for stability and sometimes to lean on, when I found myself unable to persevere alone.

I started to gather men and women of all races around me that would help me achieve my ambitions. When Zak-rao was slain during our campaign to take the Mensely Province, I absorbed many of his troops into my ranks. This bolstered my own troops twice over, and so I divided them up and put my most trusted comrades as captains, Giath being one of them.

Questions rose from this, but they grew quieter as Giath showed he was quite capable of leading. He was quiet, but fair. He earned a standing for not being a man to dawdle with his words. He rarely spoke, when he did speak it held reverence, and one would be wise to listen. In addition, Giath was compassionate, stern and surprisingly decisive.

As I said, with enough time, he could be taught anything, and I taught him everything I knew about tactics and strategy. It wasn’t long before he had earned the trust of his men and women.

Until we could add to our numbers and vie for power, we had to bide our time attaching ourselves to one warlord or another, many times absorbing members of the losing side, and earning a reputation for our skill and strength.

When our numbers grew large enough I promoted my most capable captains to generals, Giath was numbered among these, and we made a bid for the province of Mensely.

Stronghold, after stronghold fell to us, as we sweep through Mensely closing in on Daunton. Our pace was quick, as we hoped to capture it before the whole of the province’s troops could regroup at its walls.

On the eve of the battle that would decide our fate, I gave Giath an assignment to guard my rear, placing him within the narrow gap where two jutting plateaus met. I told him that should anyone circle in behind us, we would be horribly crushed. He said that not one man would cross his line. A promise he held true to despite insurmountable odds.

I had grossly underestimated the enemy’s numbers. A battle I believe we had superior numbers, but would still be hard fought to win, became a wild game of exceedingly dangerous risks to escape with our lives. Fate smiled upon us that day, for we won against a force that outnumbered us nearly 2:1. Our prize was Daunton, the price was too many of our comrades lives.

From that horrible battle there were many tales of heroes, and heroic feats, but the most inspiring act was Giath’s and his regiment that was dug in at our heels. We didn’t even know the danger that lurked at our backs, for not one or two regiments crashed upon Giath, and what would soon be called the regiment of The Fearless Faithful, but three, three regiments crashed against The Fearless Faithful, but not a single man succeeded in breaking through.

No, Giath led his men and women through a battle; I wouldn’t dare say I could have won. Those that fought with him, said he was like a wall that no man or beast could best or falter. Hordes fell to his blade and never once did he send for reinforcements. When I asked him why he refused to give, why he refused to send for reinforcements, he simply smiled that same uncomplicated smile and said:

“You told me there was no men to spare and I told you that I wouldn’t let a single man cross my line.”

It was that simple, he had achieved the task I had gave him. He took my orders and made them his testament. It was this act that earned him and his regiment the title: The Fearless Faithful. I owe him not only my life, but also my kingdom to him.

The rebuilding of my army after the win at Daunton was slow and painful, as so many new faces replaced familiar ones. Giath was there still, and his face with its straightforward-half smile was always a welcoming sight.

In the years to come, his reputation and that of his regiment, The Fearless Faithful, grew unto something close to legend. They eventually became my royal guard in my conquest of all of Thuraisa.

The greatest of that conquest happened as the remaining nations and provinces banded together for one last stand against my monstrous military, which was carving its way through the land.

The fighting was fierce, some of the worst I have ever seen in all my years. It raged on for days with no respite in view, though we seemed to have the edge over them. It was this, like a animal that has no way to escape, they fought with a desperate ferocity, and deployed a gamble that almost won them the war.

[Razor]

Okay, first off do you think I should keep the font style or should I change it to something else. I am trying to get away from the computer like feel of the text, to try and impart that someone might have actually scribed this themselves.

Let me know if you like where this or if you think something will make it better. I wrote this all including the second part, I will post momentarily, last night. I edited a bit today and rewrote a few spots, but I'm open for suggestions if anyone has any.

Thanks!

[Peppy]

Keep the font style, it gives it the sense that it was hand written.
It gives it the illusion that this piece is REALLY personal.

I have to say, this is fricking awesome. I really liked it. I don't know why I didn't read it in the first place. The entry seems so spew out compassion for Giath. Anyone who reads this will fall in love with him and feel the connection between the writer, not you, Razor, the King(I presume).

This is charming. It written in a lovely tone and seems to be a real entry.

But I think this should have been set up as a whole. There shouldn't be a part 1 and part 2. It's a sin.

{Author’s Note} <---Me no likey, but you can't please everyone.

You still have comma issues. There were a slew of missing commas:

Their goal(,) I would wager(,) were the older girls huddled behind Giath and …

Giath, I later learned(,) had lost so much blood he simply collapsed.

I was humbled, but put off at what I quickly realized was a slowness to his speech,(<-you don‘t need this comma) and his thought process.

In the years to come, his reputation and that of his regiment, The Fearless Faithful(,) grew unto something close to legend.

Other stuff:

Our prize was Daunton, our price was too many (of) our comrades(’) lives.

The rebuild of my army after the win at Daunton was slow and painful, as so many new faces replaced familiar ones.

I don't think a verb works. Try using a noun.

Giath was there still, and his face with its straightforward half smile was always a welcoming sight.

You can either use a hyphen or a comma. Like so:

straightforward-half

straightforward, half

The fates smiled upon us that day, for we won against a force that outnumbered us nearly 2:1.

Fate