In those days, the githzerai used a blade.
He had been a proud warrior then, adorned in shining silver armor, battling on the outskirts of the Shining City, but when the city fell he laid his blade to rest, never to pick it up again.
He turned his back on the carnage and began to walk.
He would likely be deemed a deserter, and yet he walked. As night fell he found his way into the nearest village. He had no coin, but an innkeeper was happy to accept his shining armor in exchange for room and board.
The next day, the githzerai left early. Despite the fact that the war was now over, skirmishes continued to break out throughout the land. Without blade or armor, he would be an easy target for a stray arrow or rogue’s dagger, and yet he walked.
Day and night lost meaning. As the githzerai stood atop a bluff overlooking his home town, he found he’d lost count of how many days he’d spent travelling over road, over field, through forest and stream. He hung his head as he remembered the fall of the Shining City, and yet he walked one final stretch.
His wife met him at the door. When he’d left for war Iseley had been large with child, but now she was thin and girlish once again. He walked past her with little more than a glance and made for the room that had once been his guest room.
He’d built a crib for this room before he’d left for war, and now the crib was occupied by the githzerai’s child.
Iseley joined the githzerai in the nursery. “Rumors of your death precede you,” she said. “Where have you been?”
“Those stories belong to yesterday,” the githzerai responded. He looked upon the boy who had been born while he had been off fighting. “I’ve chosen to embrace tomorrow instead.”
Campaign Stories continues in Wiliken 9.
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