[OOC: This just a little story from Tiberius' past that I decided to write. It shouldn't be considered IC knowledge unless Tiberius has told you himself, but was rather designed to give you insomniacs a little something to read. Enjoy!
]
"I'm not serving you one more drop.. You've had more than enough already. Finish up that drink and get out; whatever your problem is you're not going to find the answer in that mug."The harshness in the tone of the bartender caught Tiberius off guard, and the few remaining patrons stared at him as if to emphasize the fact he'd out stayed his welcome. He glanced out of the grubby window; eyeing the combination of pitch darkness and heavy rain before looking to the bar owner pleadingly, though remaining speechless. He wasn't going to give these bastards the pleasure of hearing him ask to stop until the rain stops. The angry glares followed him as he rose from the battered oak stool, throwing a few coins carelessly over the counter as he abandoned the half full mug and headed for the door.
Stepping from the warm glow of the tavern, it seemed as all the raindrops in the sky aimed themselves toward him. Despite his best efforts to shelter under the safety of his Covian cap, one of the droplets managed to find its way into his eye, provoking a stinging sensation which caused him to lose his footing on the slippery wooden stairway out of the tavern, sending him into an ungraceful headlong tumble down to the bottom.
It wasn't the pain of the fall that reached Tiberius' brain first, but rather the cold splattering of mud he was received as a prize for his efforts. Pushing himself awkwardly back up from the ground he let a loud groan, much to the amusement of a nearby hooded figure who had suddenly decided to make his presence known. Even though it was impossible for Tiberius to make out his face, he instinctively knew it was twisted into a smile and that was enough to trigger the full wrath of Tiberius' foul mood.
"Think that's funny, do ye?" Tiberius half-shouted to the dark clad hooded man, trying to conceal his seething anger while feebly attempting to wipe the worst of the mud from his kilt. He could detect a sudden change in the hooded man's mood in response to this challenge. It was fast becoming clear the man wanted to escalate matters.
"Yeah, I think it's bloody hilarious. I always 'ave a laff when guards take a tumble. Sometimes I make sure they never get back up again."Tiberius stood for a moment considering the statement. For a few seconds Tiberius tried to rationalise a decision to forget about the comment and just go home. He told himself he'd probably see the man around later and he could deal with him then; but these thoughts were soon shattered as a nerve twitched somewhere in his head and before he could stop himself he found his clenched fist already speeding toward the man's stomach.
The hooded figure was clad only in light and well worn leather which was no match for the huge mass and weight of the gauntleted fist; and the blow was more than enough to send him stumbling backwards clutching his gut as the wind was knocked from him. Tiberius' rage exploded.
"Who's laughin' now ye crim' bastard!? I'm going to do you in!"The triumphant shout was cut short as a noise above that of the rain became apparent. In his haste to engage with the local loudmouth Tiberius had failed to check the immediate area for other people; and from experience he knew he was going to pay dearly for that. It would seem his intuition had not failed him as he felt something substantial connect with the back of his head, sending a wave of pain throughout his body.
The surprise and strength of the blow knocked the heavily built guardsman down to his knee, causing him to grimace as the moist feel of blood droplets trickling down his neck filtered through to his shaken brain. He barely had time to recover before the man he had struck was fully composed and filled with a lust for revenge; returning the earlier favour with a commanding blow to the jaw of the wounded Covian, sending him reeling onto his back.
It wasn't long before the voice of the man who had hit him from behind broke the continuous pattering of the rain. It was gravelly and wholly unpleasant, only fuelling Tiberius' sense of annoyance at not checking the area in his haste as the man spoke.
"Go on George, have the fecker!" The command had hardly needed to be given as the first hooded man set eagerly about the task of causing yet more pain to the distressed guardsman; bringing a foot down onto Tiberius' breastplate, causing it to constrict his ribs with a sickening noise. Tiberius emitted a low groan as the vibrations continued to run through the tunic, trigerring the destruction of the pin which held his guardsmen's badge onto his tunic which sent it flying face up into the thick mud. This was however of seemingly little importance to Tiberius as he attempted to shelter his ribs from further damage with his forearms.
A whimper escaped from the bloodied Covian's lips as he looked up at the darkened sky; watching the silhouette of a boot heel descend rapidly toward the hastily prepared defences which were his forearms. Though the heel connected powerfully with him, he felt no pain as with the previous blows. Time seemed to grind to a halt as images began to whirl around in Tiberius' head. He thought back to how he had taught recruits about the value of endurance. How he had taught them about Covian values and ideals, and promised them they would all die glorious deaths in grand victories on far off plains. Tiberius did not tell them this because it was a lie; he honestly believed that was how all soldiers died. He had never allowed the thought he would die in any other way to come to mind before now. It seemed impossible to him that the lives of valiant soldiers could be lost to such trivial distractions as disease or old age. Was this how it was to end for him; to be killed in a pointless fashion outside the field of glorious combat? To be killed by two scummy low lives in a brawl created by his own pride?
Tiberius looked around desperately for non-existant aid. As the rain washed over him the realisation that he was alone dawned on him. This conclusion was hammered home by another attack which rained down upon him; this time a foot from one of the two sent a pain spike from his knee racing up to his head. The pain brought him around long enough to cause a tear to well in the corner of his eye before he slipped back into his slow motion thoughts. His escape this time was memories of rallying troops who had been literally reduced to tears, though these thoughts seemed unrealistic now as he laid broken and battered. It would be words that brought him back around this time.
"'Ere look George, he's crying! We should put him out of his misery..."Though through his clouded vision Tiberius could not see it, he knew the other man had both nodded and broke into a smirk. A grim acceptance of his fate began to take hold of Tiberius but it was to be suddenly shattered by a glint in the mud not far from him. In spite of both the darkness and his deteriorating quality of vision, the source of the glint was immediately obvious to Tiberius.
Ignoring his assailants Tiberius reached weakly out and cupped the object in the palm of his hand as if it was the greatest treasure in the whole of Sosaria. Tiberius had used what seemed to be the last of his resolve to take up an item which was seemingly worthless to all but him. It was the badge all Covian guardsmen were issued with; listing various admin details such as name and rank. Tiberius stared wide eyed at it before hearing a snigger echo through the night as both men seemed to speak in chorus.
"What you going to do with that? Shine it in our eyes?"Looking over the trivial admin details it seemed to Tiberius too now that he had wasted his last strength on a mere broken trinket. This was his last action and he would soon be dead and it would be forgotten. His eyes slowly were drawn to the bottom of the badge; and there were engraved some words which Tiberius had uttered many a time. The phrase
"above all obstacles" stared back at him in the face almost commandingly from the badge. To most this would be a fairly unoriginal motto of the Covian army; a phrase which invoked no sense of pride or passion. Tiberius was not most however; he had spilt blood on many occasions for the Covian army and had seen many a friend die doing so too. Upon reading the phrase his mind whirred back and scenes of grand Covian victories of old danced in his field of vision.
A sudden feeling of pride poured out from his heart; revitalizing his body as he read more and more into the badge. His own name suddenly gained meaning as he re-read it, the feeling of pride continuing to rise within him as flashbacks to his prime flooded to the fore. He thought back to the many compliments he had won through hard work. How he had risen from a mere poor miner to what he was today; a valued and integral member of the Baron's force. He had overcome thousands of obstacles to get this far, and this wasn't the occasion to break the habit of a lifetime. His peaceful reflection time was fast running out however as the shimmering steel of a well polished dagger emitted from the gloved hand of one of the attacker's.
Had the newfound sense of pride just been the nostalgia of a dying man; or was it the second wind of a committed and well trained soldier? As the dagger began to rapidly descend toward the neck of the beaten guardsman, the outcome would soon become apparent...
Author