By J.B.
Part Beta - Myself
And if any of you are curious as to some of the 'technical' aspects of Tyrane, which I don't believe are necessary at all, then by all means refer to this small tidbit of statistics:
Name: Tyrane
Job: Squire
Brave: 71
Faith: 24
Sign: Aquarius
Why is his Faith level so low? That's for you to find out. ;)
And on an off-note, I done a pre-drawing of Tyrane... this was all done
in ink, however. What else can you do with ink brushes? >_ (Address
of the pic's at my profile)
- + - - - - + -
This seriously, as my friends put it, sucked.
The head of the desperate band of thieves was a guy I that was quite familiar with. The dark green sleeves and tattered clothes did not fool me; I read his gruff and scarred face as clear as day. He wielded a rusted broad sword and seemed desperate to get past us, as did the rest of his battered comrades.
Although Ramza and Delita may not have know who he was, I did.
"JERAS!" My blade clashed with his when I rushed up to attack. "I knew you were low, but this is the pits! What, beating up little kids wasn't enough for you?"
'Jeras' sneered at me with a growl, desperately swinging his blade in an attempt to get in a shot, but because of his blindly berserk mood that he was in, it was not hard to dodge the blows. "And why do you care, Tyrane?! You got off better in school than me and everyone else did!" He caught a potion thrown by the chemist behind him, which he drunk in the blink of an eye. Jeras nodded to him in thanks, his attention focused back to me. "You think we have much of a choice?!"
I ducked the next swipe, glancing sideways for a quick moment. Delita and Ramza were helping the others clean up the rest of the motley crew, deciding better to leave me with my personal matter concerning the brigand that was annoyed with me. I gathered up the strength in an upwards blow, knocking Jeras's sword forcibly off of his hands, then retorted, "There's always choice, fool! You just chose wrong, and now you're going to pay for your choice."
Jeras looked surprised upon loss of his weapon, but balled up his hands into fist and swung his feet in a full-circle kick. His hard leather boot connected solidly on my face, not expecting for him to be skilled in the martial arts, and I stumbled back from the blow.
I touched my cheek and felt some of my own blood run down my fingers, then ducked to avoid another kick from the brown-haired fighter. 'Screw this,' I thought for a moment, 'where in the hell did he learn to fight like that?'
Someone had threw Jeras's sword back to him; he caught it without looking and grinned menacingly at me. He jumped and kicked away my own weapon, then smacked my head with the flat end of his blade. I fell back, dazed and winded, watching as the scarred thief raised his sword to execute the final blow...
Until a blade suddenly ruptured through his chest.
Jeras looked down at the sword that was jammed through his back for a brief second, then dropped lifelessly down to the ground. I blinked and looked up at Ramza, who smiled at me upon seeing me safe. Then he looked down at the dead ender, sighing.
"Why do you continue stealing like this?" he asked to no one in particular.
"You wouldn't have died this way if you had led an honest life."
In truth, I didn't believe that for one second.
'It's just the way that people are.'
- + - - - - + -
With the demise of the thieves well behind us, 'great leader' decided that we should rest up before our two-day walk to Igros. I reluctantly agreed, although I didn't see what was the point. Instead, I spent the hours in the Inn pacing about, waiting for something to happen. Ramza, before he retired, looked me over with slight concern on his face. "Don't sleep often?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Just bored," I replied. "I'm not used to long rests between battles."
"Oh." He paused, wondering what to say for a minute. "Goodnight then, Tyrane." He headed upstairs to the rooms where the rest were, though I did not follow.
I walked out of the inn into a clearing some meters away. The moon hung
over the clear night sky like a sleeping sun, providing a brief amount
of ambient light for one to make way through the darkness. With my sword
still at my sheath, I drew it quickly and started shadow fencing, ignoring
every bit of the environment around me. I focused upon a shadow, a sparring
target of my own creation, and prepared to strike, only allowing my conscience
and sword to do the talking.
'These guys don't understand that I cherish my privacy as much as
I do
fighting. It's the only way I keep my sanity.'
I made a quick jab to the front, then drew back for another jab, then
thrusted forward, and ended it with a backflip.
'I don't blame Jeras for resorting to what he did... everyone goes
their own way to survive in the world.
Even if it's by lying, cheating, or stealing. And who knows? Maybe
he was being honest about it
and wanted to pick the life of a thief...'
I made a low sweep with my sword at my imaginary enemy's "feet", following
it with a kick, then with a half-circle slash straight across where the
chest would be.
'I wish I wasn't so god-damned street smart about the world. If I
were like Ramza more, I'd
have probably been that much happier. But then again, I wouldn't
know of being
without parents... on the other hand, at least he has his sister
to comfort him.'
Sheathing my sword, I made a run toward the 'ghost' and unsheathed it at the last possible second, my slash and following thrust appearing only as a silver blur if anyone had watched. Which I doubted, but as I had fought on, I grew a tad more cautious in my movements.
As if response to my uncertainty, the calm breeze the flittered around
me started to make itself more known, and I shivered briefly from the cold
wind that circled about.
'I really should stop trying to pretend to be so good at something.
Besides, I'm not one of
those special Knights that're helping slaughter the Death Corps.
I'm not one of those
famous Wizards either, who can burn stuff faster than I can blink.
God, I don't
know what I am... and I don't know if I ever did.'
After a gust of wind caused me to nearly lost my concentration, I eventually sheathed my sword and rubbed my hands together, wondering why was the weather so uncooperative with his thinking today.
Had I looked back, I might've noticed the extra pair of eyes that were
watching me as I strode back to the inn.
'I'm not going to be sleeping well tonight.'
- + - - - - + -
I still seek improvement on action scenes. Oh, and excuse me if I miss a few critical events that happen during the game... trying to pace myself and keep the viewpoint centered around Tyrane. And I may have ideas as to make Tyrane 'special', but not special in the way of giving him kick-ass powers and such. (That comes much later ^^;;; mebbe.)
