Black Thorn Resistance/ The Cost of Security: Difference between revisions
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“What do we do?” asked one of the younger children. |
“What do we do?” asked one of the younger children. |
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“Where is everyone at?” another asked clutching a dagger in his hand. The small |
“Where is everyone at?” another asked clutching a dagger in his hand. The small weapon looking more like a short sword against his diminutive frame. |
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Rooster had no answers and just sat there huddled up against a wall and waiting, he hoped a path would clear and they could make it out into the streets. He wished he had gone out with Spark, he wished he had been out in the streets looking for supplies and food, he wished his mother had not died during the Talador invasion. |
Rooster had no answers and just sat there huddled up against a wall and waiting, he hoped a path would clear and they could make it out into the streets. He wished he had gone out with Spark, he wished he had been out in the streets looking for supplies and food, he wished his mother had not died during the Talador invasion. |
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Revision as of 14:24, 19 February 2023
Title: Rooster's Rest- The Cost of Security
Author: The Black Thorn Resistance
"Propoganda" is not in the list (essay, letter, periodical, poetry, short story, song, storyline, vignette) of allowed values for the "Creative-work-type" property.
The Cost of Security
“But it's not fair! Spark is only a little older and I want to go as well!”
A young boy was arguing with an older woman probably no older than her late 20’s herself, a hard life and the attack by Talador had left her looking older and with a limp she had no business having at her age. “Spark has to be somewhere else tonight and besides the other children need you to look after them, why don’t you all go down and get some of the toys we found last week and play with them?”
Rooster, that is what they called the boy, grinned at the thought of playing with the new toys and ran down below hollering with glee. He did not see the concerned look in his caretakers eyes or hear the worry in her voice.
Rooster was running up and down the halls of the warren. Other children followed closely behind.
He had forgotten about Spark already; he had learned to move on. He moved on after his house was destroyed by boulders catapulted over the walls by Talador. He moved on when his mother was taken by some nightmare that he still saw glimpses of right before he fell asleep. He moved on from the memory of the hunger and fear that filled his life for weeks afterwards. Until they came.
He was found by other scavenging children; they were searching the rubble for trinkets and silver and scraps to eat. One of them proudly held a leather ball, the other a whole fish she had taken from a nearby market. He thought at first they would steal his meager possessions, but they did not, they took him to meet the men and women in masks who gave him food and clothing and shelter.
He moved on after he was beaten by a shop owner for stealing a round of cheese. He moved on when another child in the warren did steal his things, but he also made sure that child never stole anything again. He moved on when one of his friends, an older hathlyn boy with slicked back hair, was killed by a cutthroat in the alleys…the men and women in masked had taken care of the cutthroat.
He moved on like everyone else who survived in the aftermath of wars they did not ask for. He left his past behind him like his old name. A memory of a world he cherished but could no longer have.
Rooster had become something of a leader amongst the children. They liked his jokes and they listened to him when he warned them something was dangerous or would get them in trouble. He also was known not to pick favorites, a side effect of the distance he always kept from people these days. A trait rare for one so young.
The children came to a table covered in toys and coins, leave some coins and play with whatever you wanted. On this night they had no expectations, and they could just play. Rooster picked up a toy knight, his favorite, he loved pretending to be a great warrior standing in front of the town gates and blocking the flying boulders with his magic shield.
None of the children noticed the fact that the adults around them had grown tense and were speaking in hushed whispers. They paid little attention to the fact most of the adults were armed tonight, in the warrens even the children often kept a dagger on them. The Rats were large down here.
They were just happy to have a night to themselves to play in the warrens. There was soup and bread for dinner tonight, all the children were excited and happy.
“Hendor is here!”
Screams echoed up and down the warren and the sound of shuffling feet and furniture hastily being pushed into makeshift barrier filled the air. There were rumors of explosions in the streets above and fighting below. The children huddled against a wall unsure of what to do. There were not many ways in and out of this particular warren.
“What do we do?” asked one of the younger children.
“Where is everyone at?” another asked clutching a dagger in his hand. The small weapon looking more like a short sword against his diminutive frame.
Rooster had no answers and just sat there huddled up against a wall and waiting, he hoped a path would clear and they could make it out into the streets. He wished he had gone out with Spark, he wished he had been out in the streets looking for supplies and food, he wished his mother had not died during the Talador invasion.
The sound of fighting erupted down the hall not far from where they sat frozen in fear, the clang of metal against metal, the thud of something hitting the floor. There were no screams and things got quiet quickly.
“Go Children!” hissed a voice behind them.
Rooster spun around quickly and saw the young woman who had spoken to him earlier, she was holding a sword in one hand and a red crystal in the other. Her eyes were empty, he knew that look he had seen it on so many faces in the last year, inwardly he shuddered.
“Go and do not look back, try and make it out” she commanded, her tone and the hard look on her face leaving no room for arguments.
The children stood up, all of them. They looked to Rooster and he took a deep breath.
He turned towards the entrance.
He started to run.
OOC Note
The names of any involved in this pamphlet are fictional, though Spark was later revealed at during a story. Spark inspired the fact that the children were often given nicknames inside the organization. The actual events inside the Rook Warrens are not well documented but the story of Hendor leading a raid that led to the death of many in the warrens is known in the town of Wehnimer's Landing