An Odd Mirror

Leaving Alexis with her friend to look over the gathered weapons and supplies, Tarmen had to admit the Keep was better equipped against the oncoming siege than he had thought.While he had been hoping for him and Alexis to be alone here, it was rather heartening to be around those they would be fighting with and for. He didn’t like the jests of slaughtering the enemy and bets made on how many, but knew it was helping their resolve. A necessary evil that he had once indulged in.
One small group of soldiers gained his attention, their swagger and louder boasts marking them as new recruits. He almost couldn’t believe he had once been like this, smirking at the thought that this might be exactly how Zane viewed him.

“You thank I ned a sard to kill’em? A tru man onla neds a good bow and ‘is fists.”

One of the soldiers was waving hands towards the weapons in disdain, being true to his word by only having a short bow and viciously armored gauntlets. The others in his group were not convinced, but in good enough spirits to throw in their own jests and critics. Something about the boy's claim drew Tarmen closer to them, eventually announcing his presence with a small challenge to the boast.

“And what if your enemy gets too close for a bow and better armor than what a bit of ticklin’ can get through?”

The boy wheeled around as the others stood to attention. To his credit, he didn’t look nearly as worried as his comrades did, in fact, Tarmen could see he was not far from throwing a punch. He could also see a symbol under his eye, a small hook that he hadn’t seen in years.

“Ah but ofcourse, how could we expect you to use a weapon when all you know is how to move rock?”

The boy’s defiance turned to a prideful rage, so quick to temper that it made Tarmen laugh. The tattoo was one used among gangs of southern Kru’ll that marked a welp’s role, one hook meaning simple heavy labor. It was an archaic practice that had been abandoned in his own Burgh and many others, but it was a symbol from home nonetheless and he couldn’t contain his cheer in meeting another kinsman not part of a cult.

“It mens I can hit you ‘ard enough to regret those words!”

The pup puffed himself up bigger, a true son of Kru’ll. Tarmen felt some of his reservations creep in at the sight, seeing physical proof that his home was still the reckless and ruthless den of snakes it had always been.

“Then you aren’t learnin’ anythin’. No use havin’ you on the front lines if you think just smashin’ the natives will do.”

He unsheathed his machete, brandishing it with such speed and skill that the pup had no time to react before he felt the metal press on his throat.

“At least with a blade, you could gut me as you die.”

He lowered his blade, seeing the boy wanting to voice his anger but only able to continue glaring. Tarmen could see in his eyes however, the point had been made. His fellows began to laugh before being silenced by a look from Tarmen, who then moved to take a sword from a rack and hold it to the boy.

“Your name.”

“Farris, sir.”

Tarmen pushed the sword on Farris’s chest, then firmly pushed his head to look up at him.

“Tarmen, none of that sir shit or I will kick your ass Farris. Vastad wants you alive to fight another day, just as Zin doesn’t want you to die a fool's death, eh? Fists are good for the brawls and duels back home, but this is war. Havin’ good steel between you and your enemy is far better than nothin’.”

The mention of Kru’ll’s more favored deities brought curious revelation to the boy, especially being invoked with traditional Kru’ll sayings. Tarmen noticed the tension on Farris’s body relax slightly, complete with a cocksure grin that he was sure he had worn countless times himself. The growing parallels made him wonder how anyone hadn’t killed him out of frustration when he had first come here. He then remembered Stran’s own dismissal of his attitude and figured a few probably would have taken such an offer. He also heard Gonyaul’s words of wisdom from a drunken night not so long ago.

‘Leave a place better than how you found it.’ Close enough to what was said, but it spurred something in him to grab Farris’s shoulder reassuringly. He wanted this pup to find a better path than he had, though resolve didn’t mean he knew what to say. For Gonyaul however, he would try.

“One jungle man to another, you need your head more than ever here. The bedtime stories that were your life back home won’t scare anyone, only show how naive you are.”

He looked to the others, another odd feeling growing in him as he found that he already had some care for these youngsters.

“To the rest of you as well, this isn’t some skirmish between petty lords, this will dictate our survival. You will be made strong, if you keep your nerve, or be proven cowards if not. Either way, it will be no place for underestimatin’ your foe. Hear me?”

He saw a few of them losing their previous mirth as his words settled in. Perhaps they had been aware, but still playing it off to keep their hopes high, but Tarmen knew it wouldn’t help. He would rather they fully grasp the situation than lose themselves to a demand for glory and thrills, Tarmen noting how that same mindset got him far too many scars. He showed the one that had nearly ruined his arm when saving Silina.

“This was my own reward for such foolishness. See to it you don’t follow my example, eh? While it makes a good story, it makes it rather hard to lift a mug at times. Would be nice for a few of you to live long enough to laugh at me for it.”

This last comment was directed more towards Farris than the others, while the joke lightened the mood for everyone. Tarmen held him a few moments longer before letting him join the others. The feelings remained and began to mix together, a thought of leaving being one of his first reactions. He could only hope he had some kind of effect on the boy, while assuming he would be brushed off as another stern leader figure, just as he would have. He did note Farris keeping the sword on him and smiled, before looking for a suit of armor for Voah.