Ser Ordhan (ordhan) wrote in thedas, @ 2010-01-01 00:29:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! narrative, & before 9:45, @ ordhan wyland |
Character Narrative: The Siege
Who: Ordhan, Denerim city guard
When: Dragon 9:31
Where: Denerim
Summary: The city guard waits for the arrival of the Darkspawn horde.
Raiting: T
The skies were flame-red; the smoke-ridden air was acid on his tongue.
Officers were shouting encouragement to inspire them, as if they were an army to be bolstered by a war cry instead of the paltry handful of guards that they were. It was all Denerim had. Everyone who could be spared had already been sent with the Warden’s armies to fight the Darkspawn horde—the irony bit like a sword’s edge. Fate had played a clever joke, and they were the brunt of it.
“Why bother fighting?” a guard behind Ordhan was muttering. “If we’re all going to die, we ought to at least enjoy ourselves in the time left.”
Any other day, Ordhan would have agreed; he’d roll his eyes at the sergeant’s speech, clap the man on his shoulder and propose a drink at the tavern or a trip to the
But suddenly, Denerim was no longer a city. It was a trembling, living heart bared to the knife, primal fear in every pulse. Ordhan could hear its lifeblood in the clamor around him. It beat in the dust beneath his feet. It throbbed in every shout, every scrape of metal and creak of wood, every breath of his fellow guardsmen around him. His own heart beat in time with it, counting away the seconds that remained. Shells of apathy, forged strong by five long, empty years, were burning to cinders as molten rage settled in the pit of his stomach.
He would die today.
Perhaps a life squandered could be of worth in death.