The tent sat quiet with a light breeze flowing through it as men stood inside looking at a map that lay before them. They wondered where to start building the new fort. Jeffthral was the oldest most experienced fighter that held his head high overlooking their ideas. He wrinkled his forehead looking down at the old map and list of supplies. Nearly 65 years of age still as strong as the first day he picked up the sword. Matheu, a new hired fighter for the kingdom took his place near the tents opening looking at his sword in the moon light. Andrew was new to the company of Talons only offered to work on the new fort that would protect the northern border.
The wars had stopped thirty years ago leaving the north in grave poverty and ravaged. This fort was to be built in hopes to send the message that there is a sense of security and the kingdom is not fallen. Even though the king is a weak, undeceive and is ruled by the local council that resides every 8th day. On these days they would walk the parks discuss the matters at hand and eat and drink till full then leave to their grand homes. But even those meetings cost the king heavily, for those men and women valued gold and silver more than the wellbeing of the people.
Andrews’s family was such a family, his father died in the mines and mother was slaved out when debts could not be paid to one of these council members. Since he was the eldest of the 4 he worked for 5 years in the labor camps sweating to pay the debt only to find that his mother was killed by one of the council’s guards. Accident, it was said. After the morning of his mother, he sot justice only to find that he was put into the wrong. Arrested accused of causing rebellion and was forced to join the Talons as a servant warrior. The Talons were once a strong arm of the military that defends the northern border. In his absence the siblings were sent to their aunts in the western princedoms but under a heavy price.
So Andrew stood at the door next to the arrogant Matheu admiring the sword his council uncle ordered to have made. As to mock the wealth he held. He then persisted to bask in his vanity mocking the lack of pampering that Andrew grew up with. Andrew ignored him as he brushed his shoulder length hair back and tied it into a pony tail. As he continued to ignore him, Andrew could hear some movement as if something was running up the path toward the tent. But with the loud blabbering of Matheu he could not make it out. But before he could hear it, the sound came to a sudden stop. In the silence shortly after a high pitched whistle came to his ear as if an arrow was on a fast approach. The arrow came into view and impaling Matheu's head breaking with ease the skull exiting the back end. Following Matheu’s lifeless body falling face forward light footsteps came running up the path. As the figure came into view Andrew noticed the axe and short sword covered in tribal paint. With a bears hide hanging over his shoulders and a bulls head strapped to a bronze sealed helmet. His scream mocked that of a bear’s roar as he came with a raised axe.
Andrew acted upon instinct and leaned back just as the blade of the axe sailed over his face only cutting the necklace that his mother gave him. He quickly drew his sword in reverse and cut between the ribs that where bare skin was exposed. He took one stepped past then stabbed downward through the back of the man spraying blood on the tent and floor. As he fell to the ground Jeffthral came to the aid of Matheu only to find him dead lying in a pool of blood. Shocked at this event and even more so to a Minotaur horns heading straight at them. But a simple trick on its part, then with a blunt object hit Andrew knocking him out of the way. Andrew flew to the side unconscious. Then with a swift firm grip the Minotaur reached up under the swing of Jeffthral's blade grabbing him by the neck; lifting him up high.
Then from the shadows came a tall figure with stained black armor, from the helmet to the boots carried the symbols of Minotaurs. Two metal blades curved down the front of the sealed helmet to form the shape of horns. Lined black gems placed there by a mage elf enchanted to control the race of them. "Well, Jeffthral, it has been over thirty years since that wonderful battle." his dark voice said.
