Mr.Handsome
06-29-2010, 08:49 PM
A sleepy hamlet in the neutral plains between the three kingdoms marks the rendezvous point for Clank. The Mechanic pushed up the rim of his hat and looked over the small village of Red Leaf. His green eyes easily pierced the darkening landscape. The night was young and he had covered much ground since he first set off, all but abandoning his unit to achieve the glory he craved to lift him above his rank and file brethren. He pulled his cloak close and made his way down the sloping hill towards The Broken Talisman, the tavern he had been instructed to find.
Being a mostly standard Mechanic, he stood at 6’ even and weighed 185 without gear, as most rank and files did. He was part of a newly formed ‘Musket Corp’ and was given one of the new devices. Clank never cared for the accuracy and the time it took to reload, but when it hit, the recipient rarely got back up. His wood and metal body occasionally glinted against the small amount of moonlight.
__________________________________________________ _______
In the tavern, a young, worried, robed lad and an older dark haired man in similar robes to his counterpart sat together in the abandoned room. The place had closed and its owner had long retired to his own house. This served as the most private meeting place the pair cared to muster.
“Suppose they don’t come.” The young boy’s eyes darted to his master.
“And suppose the sun refuses to rise. You worry too much, Max.” The older man peaked out a window, one hand casually on his short goatee and the other crossed across his chest, resting in the crook of his elbow.
“We have nothing to give these constructs. What do soulless warriors have to offer us? Bodyguards? Fodder?”
“Think about this young one. Those who have been born like you and me don’t appreciate life. We take it nearly for granted. This war just goes to show. How many lives have been snuffed out by the foolishness of the living? But think of those who are created. Those who have life given to them. The smart ones, the right ones, have an appreciation for life that we simply can’t comprehend. They remember what it’s like to be soulless. The smart ones will fight for that extra inch to preserve themselves and others. Hopefully.” He grinned at that last remark. Max shook his head.
“Master Brodrock, I really don’t understand.”
“And that’s why I’m here. I’ve known you since you were just a little boy. How old were you? Six? Seven?”
“Six…” Max muttered.
“And now eight years later, you have grown and learned so much. Do not worry of the little ignorances now. They will pass.” Brodrock smiled and patted his apprentice on the back. Max just grumbled and laid his chin on the bar. Brodrock moved to check the sky out of the window once more.
“It shouldn’t be long now…”
Being a mostly standard Mechanic, he stood at 6’ even and weighed 185 without gear, as most rank and files did. He was part of a newly formed ‘Musket Corp’ and was given one of the new devices. Clank never cared for the accuracy and the time it took to reload, but when it hit, the recipient rarely got back up. His wood and metal body occasionally glinted against the small amount of moonlight.
__________________________________________________ _______
In the tavern, a young, worried, robed lad and an older dark haired man in similar robes to his counterpart sat together in the abandoned room. The place had closed and its owner had long retired to his own house. This served as the most private meeting place the pair cared to muster.
“Suppose they don’t come.” The young boy’s eyes darted to his master.
“And suppose the sun refuses to rise. You worry too much, Max.” The older man peaked out a window, one hand casually on his short goatee and the other crossed across his chest, resting in the crook of his elbow.
“We have nothing to give these constructs. What do soulless warriors have to offer us? Bodyguards? Fodder?”
“Think about this young one. Those who have been born like you and me don’t appreciate life. We take it nearly for granted. This war just goes to show. How many lives have been snuffed out by the foolishness of the living? But think of those who are created. Those who have life given to them. The smart ones, the right ones, have an appreciation for life that we simply can’t comprehend. They remember what it’s like to be soulless. The smart ones will fight for that extra inch to preserve themselves and others. Hopefully.” He grinned at that last remark. Max shook his head.
“Master Brodrock, I really don’t understand.”
“And that’s why I’m here. I’ve known you since you were just a little boy. How old were you? Six? Seven?”
“Six…” Max muttered.
“And now eight years later, you have grown and learned so much. Do not worry of the little ignorances now. They will pass.” Brodrock smiled and patted his apprentice on the back. Max just grumbled and laid his chin on the bar. Brodrock moved to check the sky out of the window once more.
“It shouldn’t be long now…”