Snippet #1478317

Southern Jurial Plains/Northern Umbridge. A small farmstead.

Caine sat beside a babbling brooke under an apple tree. The man bore no scars, his eyes were softer, and he looked younger... However, the starkest aspect was that he was smiling... Smiling not out of blood spilled, not out of dark humor, and not out of a twisted sense of irony... But because of genuine joy. His eyes held a gleam, a cheerful gleam that had yet to be replaced by a murderous one. His lips was eternally in a cheerful smile and a soft hum emanated from his throat.

The armor and swords of the legion were conspicuously missing. Instead, a light brown tunic cut off at the sleeves and a pair of muddied farmer's breeches hung at his waist. A hoe laid beside him, gleaming in the sunlight. Then, a voice. A soft, feminine voice gently rolled through the sunlight. "Caine!? Caine! Where are you... Are you hiding from me?" It called. Caine shifted his body to meet the owner of this voice. A young woman of her twenties in a feathery white spring dress. Her hair was raven, her voice honeyed, and her eyes a deep brown. She was, for all intents and purposes, breathtaking...

"Hiding from you? Now love, why would I do something like that?" Caine asked, waving at the woman to call her over. The gleam in his eyes, it wasn't only just good cheer... It was love. The woman finally laid eyes on the man and sat her hands on her slender hips, trying her best to look mad... She was failing of course, smiles fracturing her determined angry face. Finally, she relented and hefted up the dress and began to stride towards Caine...

About halfway there, Caine saw the Hoe on the ground and threw a hand up to try and warn her, "Wait! Lie-" WHACK. She had stepped on the hoe and the thing flew up and bashed her on the forehead. Caine was up in moments and at her side immediately, holding her against him. He stammered and stuttered, "Liera... I-I'm sorry. I-I tried to warn-" Pop. Caine was interrupted by a slap to the face. "Why do you have to leave your junk laying about!" She yelled at the man, rubbing her head, nursing a new bruise and mouthing the word 'ow'. Caine, who was also rubbing his face took a step closer to the girl and began stroking her cheek.

"I'm sorry.. Can I do anything to make it up?" Caine asked, voice devoid of everything that made him the berserker and instead replaced by care, love, and tenderness. The woman smiled coyly and began to rub his wrist, a sensation that almost felt real. "I can think of something," She said playfully. Caine immediately picked up on the hint with a warm smile. In a flourish, Caine picked the young girl up in his arms, her dress fluttering as he spun her, "I think I can do that," He said, happiness tugging at his heart. And with that, he strode off towards the nearby cottage, with the girl in his arms, in a loving embrace.

North-Ridge

"What the hell is that racket!?" He shouted as he shot from his cot. A scream- no a wail. A death wail echoed throughout the camp. What was causing that horrible noise? Was it the Children? No... They would have seen them coming from the ridge... Punishment more than likely... But who? Caine hung his head, eyes still sleepy from being jerked awake. His upper body was completely bare, save for the numerous amount of scars. His chest leather was in a heap beside the cot as was his new armor... He had been tinkering with it, as well as using some of the services of his fellow comrades. His knew swords were hung up beside the cot. His legs were still wrapped in the old leather from the first batch he received. He wore those instead of mussing up the new ones.

Then, he noticed the elf at his side. She had been touching his wrist... Like in his dream. He stared at her for a moment before, "Who in the hell-" He cut himself off. He was being rude and sending the wrong impression could not be tolerated in times like this. Who knows, in the next couple of days either of them might die.

"I'm sorry..." He forget Mikana's name for a moment, still embattled with sleep. "But why are you-" He cut himself off again. Her scarred throat. He had forgotten that she couldn't speak either... That would make communicating... Difficult to say the least. "... here," He decided to finish. He looked into the eyes of the elf for a moment and just stared. Who was she? They had exchanged many glances over the last couple of days, but Caine had yet to place a finger on who she was. Yet, he held an sense that she was important... He didn't know why, or how... He just did.

Caine then swung his feet off of the cot and just sat, rolling his shoulders and arching his back, stretching. He had made enough room on the cot just in case Mikana wished to sit. Caine didn't say much for a while and finally, just decided to make small talk... Or try, "Is it morning already?" He asked, wishing for only a couple of more minutes to dream...

---

Lily was making herself comfortable in the camp, being awake from her trance-like state the elves used instead of sleep. She had been awake since the first rays of sunlight drifted over the ridge. She had begun the earlier morning honing her archery skills, using the crudely set up range, found adjacent to the sparring area, that she herself had helped to set up with, along with a couple of the other archers from the Legion. It was more or less five wooden targets set up at least fifty yards away... Small stuff for the elves. She was consistently tagging bulls eyes at something between one or two seconds a pop. Of course, these targets weren't moving, weren't defending, and weren't trying to breath fire down her neck.

However, she prided herself on the speed she had established, having been using a bow since she was a small elven child (Elflet?). Tagging a child in the face was no use if it took a minute to do and his buddies were already upon you. Feeling well enough about her skills, she continued through the camp, seeing her new captain, Wrath something or another... The captain was beginning to... cop and attitude. It seemed that he was letting the rank get to his head. Lily found nothing wrong with taking a little pride in ones place, and merely waved it off.

The next on her sojourn were the human twins, Turha and Gurgen. Sid had already moved on when Lily had arrived. They were still scuffling about the paint job on the hulking Darkgard beast... Or would be hulking if the thing wasn't eviscerated. Lily listened contently with a mild sense of humor as the twins continued their back and forth... Finally, she spoke up innocent and cheerful tone as clear as ever, "I think it should have the flames. I bet they would look neat on the golem!" She exclaimed in what seemed to be an inexperienced tone... Though, she proved it wrong by her next admission, "Besides... If we are to fight the dragons, then what better defiance than fighting wearing your enemies' own weapon... For decoration. Taunting them by using their hellfire as a reminder, 'we are not frightened, we will not surrender..." She paused for a moment, "We will not relent." She said, speaking with such pride and defiance that belied her age.

Then a scream, a piercing wail. Using her elven speed and agility, she raced to where it emanated from. Within moments, she arrived to see the last screams of a dieing deserter... And the subsequent man being split in half... The sight disturbed her greatly. She had never seen such a... display of sadism and horrid torture. She had to avert her eyes from the mess. As she did, the skies opened up and cried. How could such people do this to their own? She shook her head in disgust and left. Quickly, she made her way away from the massacre.. She both wished to be alone, but not alone at the same time... He gave up and decided to the dining area, a place full of people no doubt...

There, she found a bench and sat. She began to rock back and forth slighty, mulling over the sight... Was this the horrors of the war?