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Post by ash on Aug 18, 2016 18:47:43 GMT
How the tables were turning on him. How fast his life turned from bad to worse. One moment he was banished, homeless and alone, with his friends ordered to kill him, should he ever set foot on his native homeland again. He was banished for being a son, a warrior like a prince should be, for being an heir and through all of that a threat to a system he supported even less now. Azgeda saw man and woman as equally capable, if anything women were higher regarded as they created and gave life, he had no way of defying his mother in her decision, no way of defending himself from the commander. He was merely a prince, a son to someone determined to make their position better, cowards in their own right, scheming and plotting instead of facing it with diplomacy and the willingness to compromise.
Well any thought of that was for nothing as he was chased through the forest by warriors of his own clan, apparently set on killing him and bringing his body to his mother as trophy. Roan had no choice but to run. He was outnumbered. The forest was unfamiliar to him. More than once he stumbled. More than once an arrow graced him, cutting through fabric and skin, leaving a trail of blood on some leaves. He was done for. There was no way he could survive this anymore. He was completely in the disadvantage. That was until a clearing. He was far enough ahead that turning to another direction would throw the warriros off for a bit, potentially long enough to get away. He kept on running then, as fast as his limbs would carry him until he thought he had lost his attackers. Roan let himself fall to his knees at a stream, needing water. He all but put his head into the stream as he got the cooling liquid into his aching malnourished body.
ariannabridges
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