Begrudgingly trudging along the gravel path, Kokipa lugged a canvas sack filled to the brim with luxurious foods. Muttering hateful profanity to himself, he cursed the nobleman of the town and wished them undying anguish. Of course, these feelings were just mere reflections of the burden he had to carry many miles to a small town filled with wealthy men and women. His feet ached dearly and his head bulged in pain like a belt at the belly of a fat drunkard. But nonetheless, he carried himself forward, moving his searing muscles inch by inch. The anger inside him swelled deeply corrupting the fragile fabric of his mind.
After a few minutes he had to stop. His muscles refused to budge, and his mind was no longer active. So he just lied there, using the sack of food for comfort. Under the shade of a large oak tree near the road, he rested his eyes and instantaneously fell into a deep slumber. A light trotting awoke, and alerted the sleeping man. Sharp hazel eyes scanned the surroundings, taking notice of what seems to be the faint glimmer of a torchlight. Kokipa lightly grasped the hilt of his short-sword and gathered the sack with haste and quickly made his way down the road, although he could not tell which way he was supposed to be going. The trotting was becoming more intense, louder, faster. Losing whatever little sense he had left, he ran wild into the dark road, not taking notice to the road signs barely visible.
His heavy footsteps shortly skid to a stop as he neared another light, this one larger, a campfire. A sigh of relief passed through him and he began to walk toward the camp. A few men stood around it, cheering and clicking mugs against eachother singing jolly songs. The sound pleased Kokipa and he began to grin a bit. But that small be bit of relief and joy was cut enormously short as he realized he had just walked into a bandit camp. A wave of fear flooded over him and he gulped, his eyes immediately widening in alert.
It had been too late, the men had already noticed him. He didn't know what to do, so he dropped the sack of food and slowly unsheathed his short-sword and faced the men.
"Lost kid?" Spoke and elderly drunkard, hardly able to stand. He clumsily withdrew a waraxe from his back and bellowed.
"What say we teach him not to get lost," another spoke, smiling to his comrades, "eh?" Just then the man speaking hurled toward Kokipa gripping the handle of a large warhammer. With swiftness, he just barely managed to escape the mans blow, and survive. The ground beneath the bandit's weapon was utterly crushed and destroyed. This struck fear hard into Kokipa, he had no idea what to do. Out of reaction his took a attack stance and faced the men head on, searching for advantage points. Just like training, he told himself. Just like training. One man came from behind him and swung at him with a longsword. Ducking and rolling to the side, Kokipa swung his sword and dismembered his left leg with the rest of his body. In agony, the man cried out,but only for a split-second. He then brought his blade down and sliced the man's neck.
The others just stared at Kokipa, a mere fifteen year old boy. But before any others could make a move on him, his visioned blurred, and he blacked out. The break of sunshine awoke him and he rubbed the back of his head. As his vision cleared he saw in relief he was only a few hundred feet from the road. But what had happened to the bandits? He whirled around in fear, but saw nothing to be afraid of. There was nothing, and no one there. He whirled back and cried out for somebody.
"Someone, anyone! Please help me!" He tried standing, but a cut from the back of his leg prevented him from doing so.
After a few minutes he had to stop. His muscles refused to budge, and his mind was no longer active. So he just lied there, using the sack of food for comfort. Under the shade of a large oak tree near the road, he rested his eyes and instantaneously fell into a deep slumber. A light trotting awoke, and alerted the sleeping man. Sharp hazel eyes scanned the surroundings, taking notice of what seems to be the faint glimmer of a torchlight. Kokipa lightly grasped the hilt of his short-sword and gathered the sack with haste and quickly made his way down the road, although he could not tell which way he was supposed to be going. The trotting was becoming more intense, louder, faster. Losing whatever little sense he had left, he ran wild into the dark road, not taking notice to the road signs barely visible.
His heavy footsteps shortly skid to a stop as he neared another light, this one larger, a campfire. A sigh of relief passed through him and he began to walk toward the camp. A few men stood around it, cheering and clicking mugs against eachother singing jolly songs. The sound pleased Kokipa and he began to grin a bit. But that small be bit of relief and joy was cut enormously short as he realized he had just walked into a bandit camp. A wave of fear flooded over him and he gulped, his eyes immediately widening in alert.
It had been too late, the men had already noticed him. He didn't know what to do, so he dropped the sack of food and slowly unsheathed his short-sword and faced the men.
"Lost kid?" Spoke and elderly drunkard, hardly able to stand. He clumsily withdrew a waraxe from his back and bellowed.
"What say we teach him not to get lost," another spoke, smiling to his comrades, "eh?" Just then the man speaking hurled toward Kokipa gripping the handle of a large warhammer. With swiftness, he just barely managed to escape the mans blow, and survive. The ground beneath the bandit's weapon was utterly crushed and destroyed. This struck fear hard into Kokipa, he had no idea what to do. Out of reaction his took a attack stance and faced the men head on, searching for advantage points. Just like training, he told himself. Just like training. One man came from behind him and swung at him with a longsword. Ducking and rolling to the side, Kokipa swung his sword and dismembered his left leg with the rest of his body. In agony, the man cried out,but only for a split-second. He then brought his blade down and sliced the man's neck.
The others just stared at Kokipa, a mere fifteen year old boy. But before any others could make a move on him, his visioned blurred, and he blacked out. The break of sunshine awoke him and he rubbed the back of his head. As his vision cleared he saw in relief he was only a few hundred feet from the road. But what had happened to the bandits? He whirled around in fear, but saw nothing to be afraid of. There was nothing, and no one there. He whirled back and cried out for somebody.
"Someone, anyone! Please help me!" He tried standing, but a cut from the back of his leg prevented him from doing so.
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