Kaerlog2

From Reydala

Kaer - Memories

(First person)



Memories play many tricks on us. It seems so close, even though it has been over ten years by now. As my mind wanders further away, the part of the carpet that always gets me closes in. But the image is still so clear…


The man was so frantic. Banging on the door as I was reading of the skill of the Arcane Strike, he would not cease his panic, pounding away, disrupting me from within this book.

“Sara Galnic! Mrs. Galnic! You must help me! You need to help me!” he screamed as I opened the door. Mother was out for the day, and father was searching for new materials for his craft, leaving me at home, calmly studying. I asked the man why he was in such an uproar, concerned, but also expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Mother was talented, and when people had any problem, they would come knocking on the door, be it something silly such as wishing for help with a meal, to asking for aid from evil. This time, it was the evil.

“My family! The woods! There’s a-a bugbear! He has my wife! Please! Your mother, where is she? She needs to help.” The man pleaded, and I felt as if all the air had been knocked out of me. It could not have been fear, no, but it was not excitement either. Mother was gone… and then this? Someone attacked by a bugbear? Even if it would be difficult, I had to do something.

“Mother is out… but I’ll go.” I said, and before the man could protest, I found a suit of armor I had practiced in, then went into Mother and Father’s room and retrieved her sword, apologizing as I put it to my side.

This man knew he had little choice, so making haste, we rushed to the forest. It was close to the city, and although provided beauty in all seasons, was a nesting ground for evil. Thankfully, it was close enough, and when we arrived to the location the man said was ‘right where they were attacked’ there was nothing. A woman’s scream was heard from behind a tree, and running around it, right into my chest there was a Morningstar. It was an ambush. Staggering for a second, I turned Mother’s blade to defend the Bugbear’s next attack.

Another swing, but I deflected it, shifted my blade from defense to attack, and struck out. There was only one bugbear, and this let me know that I could end this conflict. Spells would be worthless here, the enemy was too close, and my concentration lacked what was needed. I had never killed an opponent before, but my blade struck true; causing this creature to recoil, surprised at the blade I wielded. One strike wouldn’t be enough.


...Crap, that carpet just got me. I am on the ground right now, am I not?


As Father would always say, a weapon is only as good as the one who wields it, and this explains much of my battle. After my initial strike, my confidence was shaken as all my attacks would not strike home. If only… if only the arcane I had been studying could be useful. If only I could use what I knew, and combine all my skills together. My mind shifted to this thought, and my enemy saw this, and struck me, knocking me further back, to the point where I finally knew it.

I was going to die here.

That could not happen. I would not let it happen. As my own blood was dripping down my face, and my hair took a red tint from one of the blows I had received, survival was all that mattered. Survival, then to get strength. The strength to become stronger, the strength to protect people, the strength to defeat the unjust. Taking all I had left I thrust forward, Mother’s blade piercing through my enemy’s chest while causing frozen shards to burst within. I pulled out the blade, took a step back, and watched the bugbear collapse.

The man who took me here immediately ran to his wife, discovering she was luckily unharmed. Using a part of my clothes that was not already covered with blood, I cleaned off Mother’s blade and put it back at my side. After their joyful moment was done, we walked back to the city, and while we talked, and they continued to thank me, my mind would not stray from the thoughts of combining swordsmanship with the arcane. After I saw the two to their home, I walked back to my own house, disregarding the stares of people at my blood covered self.

When I opened the door, there stood my mother, the most perplexed look I had ever seen on her face. I explained the situation, apologized, and then offered her back her sword. Rather than take it back, she told me that I needed to work on my skills, and what better to use than that. Even after I told her that I wished to learn how to make sword and arcane work together, she still insisted I could use the blade. That was all the inspiration I needed, and the very next day I discovered a book that spoke of “The Spellsword”. The rest is a long montage of history.


…And even though I fell on the carpet, now there seems to be a pileup on top of me by a bunch of strangers. Geon has some explaining to do, I’m thinking.

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