Razzius Grimm: The True Story You Were Never Told

All I Have

The mouth of the cave beckoned young Razzius to it, it's maw an inviting peril of possibility.  What lay inside?  Could it be treasure or artifacts of old?  The questions nagged at the ten year old boy as he stood holding but a burning lantern in one hand and a strong switch of oak in the other.  

Razzius steadied himself in the dark of night.  The wind blew and howled amidst the cliffs just south of the great castle city of Haile.  "You can do this," he whispered, holding up his lantern to shed some light into the cave.  "If you're ever going to be a Knight, you can't be afraid of the dark."

"Razziusssssss," the wind whispered, as the boy's mind began its tricks.  "Commmmmmmeeeeeeee."

Razzius took his first steps forward into the cave, his legs felt like they were rooted into the ground.  His body resisted him at every turn and he raised the switch and prepared to strike at even a moments notice.  The young boy had been training a long time, practicing sword techniques and spending his lonley days watching the Squires train in the fields just outside of Haile.  He always kept his distance.  His father could never know he was training to become a Knight.

He could never know.

Ever.

Razzius stepped forward again and now found himself inside the cave.  "Just like Arthan Silver," he reminded himself.  "Just like Laurec and Illian, Jerreth and Reinhardt, I have to be brave."  Razzius held the lantern up to the stone walls of the cave and began to see familiar scratched indentations.

At first, Razzius only saw it as a way to distract himself, but now, he saw it as a way to push himself .  It was a strong motivator to keep fighting onward, a reason to move forward.  The first scratches Razzius ever made happened when he was seven years old.  Since then, Razzius had lost count of how many times he had come and gone.  So many nights his wits had failed him, but not tonight.  Tonight, Razzius felt different.  Razzius needed to prove to himself that he could do it.  He needed to prove to his "friends" that he could do it.  Most of all, however, he wanted his mother to know he could do it. 

Elena Grimm, loving wife to Wurn Grimm and Razzius' mother passed a way giving birth to the boy.  That was the day everything changed.  Razzius spent many afternoons listening to taproom stories of the great accomplishments of his father.  Countless bandit camp raids and no less than 20 Wyverns slain put Wurn Grimm right at the top of the city's list of knights.  Truth be told, he wasn't far behind the Knight Guard Captain, Jerreth Sanctus.  That was all gone now and all that remained was...

"Razziussssssss," the voice continued, breaking the boy from his daydreaming.  It snaked it's way around him and possessed him.  "Razziusssssssssssss!"

Razzius passed a second set of scratches on the cave walls.  He moved the lantern about an observed familiar stones and stalagmites.  A rats nest sat nestled in the corner against the side wall.  Razzius set the lantern down for a moment and retrieved some crusty bread from his pants pocket.  He used the flickering lantern light to guide him to the pile of sticks and grass, old strings and yarns where he knew they waited.

"Reginold," Razzius called, placing the bread near the nest.  "I brought you a present.  Come on out."

From the protection of the darkness, Razzius saw a large, rather rotund creature begin to waddle his way.  It was about a foot long and 6 inches wide with a long, scaley, leathery tail.  It's beady black eyes shone brightly in the flickering flame of the lantern light.  "Welcome home, Master Razzius," the creature squeaked, making right for the bread.  In moments the rat had gobbled it down and lay sprawled out on the cavern floor.  "It's good to have you back."

"Sometimes this feels more like home," Razzius said with a chuckle.  "I see you've been redecorating the place."  Razzius motioned to the string.  "It's a nice touch, I like it."

"Just trying to keep the misses happy," Reginald admitted. "You know what they say about a happy wife."

Silence.

Finally, Razzius laughed.  "No, I don't," he answered.  "What do they say?"

Reginald rolled over onto his back.  He stretched out.  "I've no idea, I was hoping you did," he stated bluntly.  "It's something you humans say quite often, isn't it?"

Razzius kept right on laughing as he approached Reginald and picked him up.  He held the rat carefully and gently pet the rodent.

"Did you bring it?" Reginald asked, stretching in the boys hands.

"I couldn't," Razzius admitted. "My father."  Razzius paused.  "He wouldn't let me tonight.  Next time, alright?"

Reginald quivered and squeaked.  "Alright."  

"Would you like to see what I've been working on?" Razzius asked, setting the rat down.  Razzius grabbed the lantern and placed it closer to them.  

"Of course!" The rodent squeaked happily.  "I've been looking forward to it all day."

Razzius smiled and gripped the switch firmly.  He planted his feet  and swung the switch hard.  It was a simple overhand strike.

"Yes, very good, sir," Reginald said, clapping his paws together.  "Good show."

Razzius spun and swiped across in front of himself with the switch to even more cheers from the rat.  It wasn't long and the boy had completely lost himself in his swings and his training.  After a while, the cheering and clapping all but stopped.

Razzius frowned.  "How could I forget?"  He looked around and saw no rat, no nest, only a dried out stale piece of bread.  Razzius swung again and again, cutting imaginary demons and dragons, mighty dark sorcerers and evil knights of old. "It's better this way.  At this point, this is all I have."