First Blood

He helps the man from his grave. He looks about in the mud as the rains continue to flood the fields. The old man stands quietly. The man remembering the events before his demise starts digging at the earth frantically. Tears fill his face but are hidden by the droplets. A bestial moan of grief cried out from the man’s lungs. He tore away globules of mud and earth. His finger nails gave way to the strength of the ground. A hand was placed on his shoulder. “They’re gone. There is nothing we can do now.” The man upon hearing this fell to the ground wailing. He pound in the puddles splashing debris across there face. The old man spoke again, “What I can offer is a chance at revenge.” The man finds his strength and stands up.


Logan stands there his hand outstretched with a dagger in his hand. The man grabs it. They stand there in a basement. A man, with a hood over his head, kneels before them. The man hesitantly takes the knife. He walks behind the kneeling person. Logan begins declaring the sins of the criminal, murder and theft amongst those listed. The man with a shaky hand holds up the knife to the criminals throat. “He deserves it. Kill him, and your training begins.” The man stands there unsure. “Do it!” Logan shouts. The man filled with confusion and fear drops the knife. ” I can’t.” he says apologetically as he runs out of the basement onto the streets. He wanders around for hours. “What a coward!” He thinks to himself. “I can’t even avenge my own family.” He longs to join them again. He thinks of the old oak tree overlooking their graves. Will they still remember him. He fiddles in his pocket for some change to buy a rope. He brushes aside his carving chisel to find the last few coins to his name.It’s last hour, the store is closing soon. He buys the rope. It’s dark now as he heads towards the town gates. A whimper cries out from the alley. A looming man is towering over a distressed woman. “Shut up and it will be over quickly!” The scoundrel exclaims to the woman as he loosens his belt with one hand while brandishing a knife in the other. Terror fills the ladies eyes. The man looks towards the gate just on the horizon. The tree is calling him. The scoundrel draws closer as he rips the blouse of the woman. A hand touches his shoulder from behind. He turns and greets a humble carving chisel with his retina. The chisel withdraws from the skull with organ and sinews still grasping it’s metal. The tool then dives deep into the warmth of his neck. Blood pours down over its wielders hand. The corpse drops to the ground, trousers still hanging loosely at the knees. He reaches out a hand to the damsel. She grabs it, not sure if she is safe or in more danger. “Be free.” The man whispers into her ear. No sooner than it leaves his mouth, the woman dashes away into the night. Clapping fills the alley behind the man. He turns to see Logan. “We subdue those that attack ones who cannot defend themselves. You passed my tests.” The man looks angrily at him. “The other dared not put up a fight. He has been turned over to the authorities to be dealt with. You saved this woman’s life. Now let me help you save many more.” Logan begins to walk off. The man cautiously follows at a distance. He looks at the gate. The oak tree will have to wait, for now.

Picture from Clip Art Fest .


3 Responses to “First Blood

  • I don’t know which line I liked more: “He turns and greets a humble carving chisel with his retina.” or “The oak tree will have to wait, for now.” Both are evocative in different ways, and both speak volumes about The Man’s personality.

  • Your Best log yet love the style, and the execution .
    I am almost sorry that this story ends next game, One way or another.

  • All journeys have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Sometimes we are fortunate enough to see them allowing us to move from one life arc to the next. When we can’t find the next arc of our lives we spiral out of control looking for a path. That is the road to damnation and purgatory, may you see it and set your soul free.

    – Torrun

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