Greetings!
This is the first chapter of my first story, so I hope you like it!
I plan on very loosely following the main story of For Honor, but only from my MC's perspective so... it's essentially a new story, with certain characters and locations pulled from the For Honor campaign.
I plan on consistently updating this, and have absolutely every intention on seeing it through, there's nothing worse than an unfinished story, in my opinion!
My first chapter is a little shorter, that's simply because it's currently 2:30am, and I found an acceptable place to leave it for a pilot chapter.
That's all the mindless chatter I have for now, so... I hope you enjoy it!
A secluded keep, at the edge of the known world, overseen by a dishonourable mercenary general, known by many as a coward, and even more as a traitor to the revered Blackstone Legion...
On the forefront battlements of the keep, a lone catapult resided, despite it's poor material quality, it was more than enough to repel enemy siege engines, as well as the perfect climbing frame for a nimble assassin her down time. Amelia sat in silence, sparing a quick look at her worn sword and dagger, discarded on the ground below her.
"Is this what you wanted, mother?" She muttered.
She directed her gaze away from her shoddy weaponry, it was usable, but she knew she could teach the smiths here a thing or two about the minimum expected quality of standard issue arms. She sat for a while longer, scanning the horizon, what for, she did not know, but like a bird trapped in a cage, she urged for an escape. An escape from the tedious duties that luxurious castle life brought with it.
"Thought I might find you here." A jolly voice sounded from further down the wall, followed by a brief chuckle, as the footsteps of a partially plated knight grew closer, she noticed it was non other than Hector, the only Warden stationed at this keep, besides their dastard liege lord, Hervis Daubeny.
She remained silent, sparing him nothing more than a quick glance, simply to identify the one bold enough to break the silence she enjoyed indulging her self in so much. She sighed, making the smallest inch of effort to greet him.
"Hector." Nothing more, nothing less, but he knew her well enough to know that even that much was a blessing.
He stood in silence for a while, taking a moment to appreciate of the setting sun on the horizon, but as things started to get a little awkward, he turned to face the Peacekeeper, only to his dismay, be beaten to the punch.
"What do you want, Warden?" She sighed, her gaze still set on the horizon.
Hector hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words to say, words that would spare him making a fool of himself.
"Well, you skipped training again, Lord Daubeny has summoned you to address the matter, or something along those lines, he didn't really specify, but he didn't sound happy about it." He finished with a light sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Amelia didn't respond with words, instead she began descending from her perch, and faced Hector with an empty expression. She was shorter and donned far lighter armour than the Warden, that didn't mean she couldn't be intimidating when she wanted to be.
"Training..." She said softly, as she began glancing around at the floor around her.
Hector was a little confused and felt somewhat belittled by the young assassin standing before him, though got away with concealing his expression behind his visor, which hid all but the shadows of his eyes. Before he could say anything else, like a blur, Amelia used her feet to propel her dagger into her right hand, and held it to Hectors throat, applying light pressure to the chainmail that covered it.
"What are you-!?" He shrieked, resting a hand on the pommel of his sword.
"What exactly are you training for?" She asked in an inexplicably clam manner, tilting her head, still expressionless.
"What do you-?" He stumbled on his words, which only embarrassed him more, he couldn't find the words to form a straight answer, in a sense, he agreed with where she was coming from, and where she was going with this. There was no conflict to train for, word of the ever-growing Blackstone Legion was spreading, but the distance between their fortress and the keep he was currently stationed in allowed any mention of the Blackstones being a potential threat to be immediately dismissed.
"As I thought" she said, in a low, inarticulate tone.
She sheathed her dagger in a leather scabbard on the back of her belt, following that, she retrieved her sword, and holstered it in some straps on her back, that under regular use, should have just been used to keep her pauldrons from slipping off her shoulders in any spurs of any moments.
"If our beloved lord has summoned me, how could I possibly refuse to grant him an audience?" She said, clearly emphasising the lack of love she felt for her liege.
Shortly after, she passed Hector, who was still in shock from the events that just unfolded.
"Where is he?" Amelia asked, not sparing the effort to face him.
"The Ring, of course." Hector sighed, "It's better not to test him, Rose."
She heard his advice, and immediately dismissed it, as she began her pilgrimage from the front gate to the back-end of the ageing keep, all the while, disturbed by the thought of her newly assigned nickname. Rose, was the closest thing the men and women surrounding Amelia had to a name for her, as she never cared to tell anyone her true name, as a matter of fact, Rose wasn't her choice either, it was only picked up and spread recently by a group of grunts, who decided it suited her because of the her taste in fashion. Following the assignment of the nickname the grunts made the mistake of being the first to address her by the name directly, which resulted in a few broken noses, that the group certainly didn't account for. Despite that, use of the name had become more regular, and eventually the Peacekeeper accepted that she wasn't going to live it down without exposing her true identity to them, or that there were now simply too many noses to break.
Despite her distaste for her lord, Amelia still somewhat respected the oaths she took as a Peacekeeper, which meant as long as she was under contract to him, she had to obey his orders, or at the very least, most of them. She regularly skipped out on morning routines and duties, such, public affairs, were of little interest to her. Being summoned by name wasn't a regular occurrence, but it had happened in the past, although, this was the first time Hector had been sent to retrieve her, perhaps he expected reluctance... she didn't blame him. She soon disregarded the thought, as she continued her walk down the open air corridor, occasionally sparing a glance to watch the sun as it began to set.
Amelia soon arrived at the far side of the keep, welcomed by the shouting and cursing of a small mob, who were spectating a duel between two well-built, albeit half naked warriors, both wielding a Trident and Buckler.
"Keep going! You can rest in your graves!" A familiar voiced sounded, the voice of the lax lord, ruling over an arena of drunkards and grunts.
She approached the makeshift throne her lord was slouching in, almost completely unnoticed had a captain not looked her way as he delivered a casket of ale to Daubeny's side. He sat forward, gestured toward the Peacekeeper, granting her permission to approach him.
"You summoned me, my lord?" She said with little effort to hide her disdain for him.
"Come now dear Rose, who do you think will win? Marus, on the left, or Curo, on the right?" He pointed to each as he addressed them.
Amelia observed the stances of the two, Curo held his Trident in his right hand, and had the three tips pointing towards the ground, he planned on using heavier overhead attacks, that much was obvious, and based on the stature of his opponent, rather clever. A shorter grip on his weapon also allowed for more control and speed when he was attacking. As for his buckler, he held it in his offhand, holding it up to his upper chest, almost as if he planned on using the small shield as an offhand weapon, rather than a means to defend himself. Marus on the other hand held his trident in two hands, with his buckler strapped to his left forearm, just beyond the wrist, to act as more of a defensive instrument than a tool in counterattacking, also quite clever. The creativity the two were portraying was beyond what she would have expected to see from such undisciplined fighters. That aside, she had to make a choice, or risk disappointing her esteemed lord.
Amelia softly let her eyes drift shut, upon doing so, Daubeny, urged by his eagerness to receive an answer, leaned out of his shoddy throne to check on the Peacekeeper, who had been silent for the past few moments. Once he noticed what she was doing, he could only smile behind his helmet, simply because she was actually making an effort to indulge him for a change. He soon sat back in his throne, signalling the captain beside him to poor him a mug of ale, which he soon removed his helmet to enjoy. In doing so revealed a blonde, middle aged man, with a small gash across his right cheek, which many claimed is self inflicted as no one has ever actually seen the lord raise a sword against a noteworthy opponent.
After several moments, the commotion from the crowd faded, and the fighting and taunting from the warriors in the ring slowed down.
"Primi Motoris?" She muttered to herself, though by the time she'd finished, the answer was as clear as day to her.
The grunts and men-at-arms surrounding the ring began once again shouting and cheering, and the fighters assumed their preferred stances, preparing for the defining moment in their duel.
"Marus." She proclaimed, in response to which Daubeny almost choked on his ale.
"You disappoint me, assassin." The blonde, middle aged man chuckled. "Marus is a coward! Curo has had him on the defensive the entire time."
"Exactly." Amelia quickly snapped back at the lord, though he didn't react or respond, he simply disregarded the attitude of his subordinate and turned his gaze back towards the duel.
The two continued to circle each other, neither wanted to make the next move, but the weight of their lord's gaze demanded that action be taken.
"What are you waiting for Curo!? Slay the coward!" Daubeny howled.
Upon hearing the demand, Curo growled, cast aside his buckler, and grabbed his trident with his now spare left hand and followed the notion by pulling the weapon back over his shoulder, and committed his full upper body strength to a powerful thrust towards Marus, who to Curo's dismay, was more than ready to defend himself. Marus raised his left arm and advanced forward, deflecting his opponents blow, taking advantage of his opponents over-aggression, he thrust his trident into Curo's bare stomach.
Marus held the posture for several moments, before removing the now lifeless body from the end of his weapon. He stood up straight and faced his confounded audience. Amelia withheld her smile, though she couldn't help but let a slight smirk slip.
"C-coward!" Daubeny barked.
The Peacekeeper's smirk soon shrunk to a frown, as she directed her gaze away from the triumphant warrior, and onto the clearly upset lord, now bent over, covering his face with his hands.
"Sir Adams... Your bow, if you'd please." Daubeny murmured, clearly consumed by outrage caused by the unexpected turn the duel took.
The captain beside him recoiled at the sound of the request.
"My lord, you can not mean to-"
"SILENCE!" The furious lord screamed.
He snatched the bow from it's resting place beside the captain, and began nocking an arrow.
Marus had no cover, nor did he deserve a fate such as this, Amelia was aware of such.
Daubeny stood tall, towering among the dead silent group of soldiers surrounding him, proceeding to take aim at the exposed warrior, a short distance shot, there was no doubt, the Gladiator's life was sealed.
The lord let loose his nocked arrow, closing his eyes as the arrow left it's resting place, what followed, was not the screams of agony Daubeny longed to hear, but instead, a most unexpected intervention.
Translation - Primi Motoris? - Who moves first?
Most foreign language will be displayed in italics, and most likely written in English so you don't have to skim through looking for a translation.
Anyway, what'd you think? Did I do good? Already got a draft ready for chapter two, very excited to see where I can take this :}
Ratings and Reviews are more than welcome, I plan to read and respond to every one unless such is unwarranted.
In any case, thanks for giving my story a chance!