My name is (Y/N) and I am less than.
I knelt down by the river beside our camp, staring at the cool water through the slim holes of my helmet, a faint ripple of my reflection staring back. I was the first to rise, purposefully, I liked the peace. And...
"What troubles you, Oathbreaker?" His voice was shaken at its core, not matching the harsh name he had given me. I sighed to myself, taking off my helmet and allowing my hair to fall loose. The early morning was the only time I could breathe.
"How much longer must I wait, Withers?" I asked the skeletoned man who sat upon a rock beside me. His grip on his staff seemed to tighten as he used it to bring himself to his feet, a faint grunt escaping him.
"I can not speak for the vines, Oathbreaker." The undead man spoke as he approached my side, "Only you may follow them."
"I've followed your damn vines from the Underdark all the way to the Grove." I spat, my head not wavering as I stared ahead, "I've even joined this band of broken fools like you said."
"This band of broken fools will lead you to who it is you desire, it is foretold." Withers said, a slight pause in his breath before he spoke once more, "But the path ahead of you is burning, Oathbreaker." Withers continued, sounding pained.
"Let it burn for all I care." I hissed, "As long as the smoke leads me where I need to go, I'd trek through hell if need be."
"For a moment there, I doubted you could even speak." A familiar voice piped up behind me. I felt my skin go cold, quickly fastening my helmet back on my head as I turned around to face him. "You know, most Paladins won't stop talking about their godforsaken oath, tsk. Always so pious and whatnot." Astarion. Another member in this merry band of fools, an elf at that, the first I'd ever seen. He had fair porcelain skin, a head of strikingly white curls, and eyes of spilled wine. I'd find him quite beautiful if it weren't for the constant obscenities that spewed from his wretched mouth. I glared at him from the slits of my helmet, tilting my head to the side as I watched him talk. He shifted his weight from one side to the other, smiling mischievously as he inched closer to me, "But I've barely heard you speak three words since you've joined and none of which have been to me." He placed a hand on his chest for dramatic effect, "I'm hurt."
I ignored the elfs words, pushing past him as I headed back to camp, noticing someone else waiting nearby.
"Acquired taste, that one." The mage motioned to Astarion. I didn't regard the man with much, only sparing a glance as I walked past him, where the rest of our camp began to stir awake. "A-Ah, I don't believe we've made acquaintances quite yet, my name is Gale-, Gale of Waterdeep." I remembered the mage, the newest addition to our group, being pulled from a wall by a regrettable Shadowheart.
"Acquired taste?" Astarion scoffed at his words from behind.
"And you might be?" Gale asked, stepping in front of me to stop me in my tracks. I paused, glaring at the man silently, not that he could tell. He was handsome in the least, his shoulder length brown hair resting on his shoulders, a golden earring hanging only from his left ear, but he talked far too much for my liking.
"As much as I enjoy seeing you squirm in desperation," Astarion said, "it's no use. She only ever speaks to that damned skeleton."
"Who? (Y/N )?" I heard Wyll chime in as he exited his tent, "She speaks to me occasionally." Astarion practically snorted behind me. Wyll was an old friend of sorts, we grew up together before growing apart, and somehow our paths crossed here years later once again.
"Ha! Of course she speaks to the blade of frontiers." The pale elf laughed, hints of disgust clinging to his words as he sauntered past me, "Even underneath all that armor, she is still just a woman." He threw me a nasty glare over his shoulder that felt quite personal.
"I find (y/n) to be quite amicable." Shadowheart inputted, a high-half elf cleric with a god complex. Why she enjoyed my company specifically was a bit of a mystery to me, given the fact that I've never even spoken to her.
"Tsk'va, that's because she doesn't contest your idiot ideology." La'zael scoffed, a githyanki warrior with a distaste for foreigners, "The paladin must have been humiliated as a child, to speak so little as an adult." I threw an unforeseen glare at La'zael, an eyebrow raised as she continued to confidently sharpen her blade beside our dying campfire.
"Are we talking about (Y/n)?" Karlach shouted as she emerged from her own tent, her eyes meeting mine. Karlach was a six foot tall tiefling with one horn and an uncontrollable mouth. She was the type of person to not only start tavern brawls, but most definitely finish them. "I must admit you are a bit of an anomaly, dear. All the Paladins I've met wanted to kill me, but that never stopped them from telling me what their oath was or who they pledged themself to."
"That is exactly my point, my devilish friend." Astarion said once more with a nod, "Maybe her oath is some kind of shameful kink."
"What, like an oath to enjoy punishment?" Karlach snorted, "(Y/n)! You freaky little bastard."
"I once knew a Paladin whose oath was to drink milk everyday." Gale added, "Real advocate for bone health."
"Is your oath something like that, (y/n)?" Karlach asked, tilting her head to the side with a toothy smile, "Well, don't leave us hanging love." I paused, a quiet chord in my chest being plucked as the entire group watched me in silence. Even Wyll offered me no solace as he looked at me curiously, as if he also wanted to peel back another layer that was me and get a better look for himself, to see if I really was who he thought. My body tensed under my armor, the morning chill making the metal burn my skin as I let out a hefty sigh.
My oath?
"To protect the one I love the most." The words left me upon instinct and completely unwilling. I'm not entirely sure why I even bothered to tell them the truth, why I wouldn't conjure up some ridiculous kind of lie and feed into their imaginations. I felt something well up in my chest, an ache I hadn't felt in quite some time, or maybe it was something that had always been there and I just refused to acknowledge it. Maybe I distracted myself more often than I deserved. I furrowed my brows, avoiding everyone's eyes as I stared at our suffering campfire. How long has it been since I've said something like that out loud? Since I've even thought of speaking your name?
"I think that is very beautiful, (Y/n)." Wyll was the first to speak. La'zael continued sharpening her sword without a word and Shadowheart retreated to her tent to prepare for the day, both seemingly bored of the conversation.
"Yeah, I mean," Karlach smiled, walking up to me and giving me a pat on the shoulder, "they must be real special to make someone like you take up an oath for them."
Ah.
"And you are very lucky to have someone to love as much to do so." Gale added, clapping his hands together.
Am I?
The only one who did not speak gently of my oath, or show lack interest in it all together, was Astarion. The pale elf stared at me, aimlessly I had almost thought. But as I watched those ruby eyes through the slits of my helmet, I saw the faint hue of malice.
My name is (y/n) and in this cruel and unforgiving world, I am an Oathbreaker.
