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Intro - Frederick Chaseron - 'A Coward's Honor' <Open>


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OOC: This is a very old roleplay that I decided to revive for my character since it was never finished. It was played out originally along with Shepherd's character Captain Bruce Shepherd, but I decided to take Kael's advice and redo my introduction for multiple reasons. Anyone is welcomed to join and spice things up.




There was no denying it. Frederick Chaseron was tired. The journey from Cairhein took much longer than he anticipated, and the heat from the sun was not letting up. His once pale skin was now an aching red-pink, and his curly bleach blonde hair felt about to burst into flame. He wasn't so sure it wouldn't Fred knew he should have kept that hat, no matter how pretty that girl was. Here he was, feeling like a dehydrated, welted tomato all because a girl said that she liked his hat. It was his fault, giving the hat to her, but it was her bloody fault for standing next to his horse, looking all beautiful. Burn that lass! Burn the sun! Burn the Domani for dragging me in this mess! Burn Garard for putting the Domani up to it! Burn Charlie for letting me fall in to my own flaming foolishness! Of course, Fred knew none of this was Charlie's fault. None of it had ever been. In fact, Charlie was there trying to stop him, but Fred the fool was working at his best. He snarled at that thought, and kept his horse moving. Patting the horse's head, he was still trying to figure out what to call it. He had owned the horse for a few years now, and never once came up with a decent name. He thought of Runner, Dagger, and Courage. Great names he thought, except none of it seem to fit. And he hated the thought of having a horse with courage, when he had so little to show himself.


The Citadel came into view, still a great distance to travel to reach it, and Fred was glad for that; he was scared. Thousands of men would be there who knew how to fight trollocs, halfmen, and other shadowspawn. These men knew how to fight. They were warriors, men who experienced true bravery and the swinging of a blade; the rush that is felt charging through battle. Fred on the other hand, had gotten in a few bar fights over wenchs who smiled at him, most of the time losing. He wasn't a short man, he was just too skinny and lacked the skills of knocking a man down on his back. Anytime he could run away though, he would. Fred wasn't a coward, but when a man came to his face and stared him in the eyes, he felt the most reasonable option would be to dart away as fast as he could.


So maybe he was a coward. Yes, I am a coward. Just shouldn't show it when I reach this Citadel. If this band allowed him to join, he needed to convince them that he couldn't fight in the calvary or the infantry. There were too many risks in those divisions. He needed to be behind the army of men who were getting slaughtered. Fred wanted to be a part of the Band without actually having to risk a hand or foot or his head. After all, he needed to get back to Cairhein eventually, Garard was going to pay for this. An archer. That would do it. He could stand in the back picking off foes. Hopefully, he could learn the bow better than he could the sword. Fred was sure the trainers would see to that.


As his nameless horse kept moving, he was almost there now. Now he could barely move his eyes where he couldn't see a sign of those military grounds. I'm no bloody soldier. He wondered how many recruits the Band received with no fighting skill whatsoever. A scary thought, that he might be alone in that. Fred could turn around right now, go some other place besides Cairhein, and start anew. He could start nice merchant store in Caemlyn, no one would ever see his downfall on his word...except him. Maybe that's why he kept moving, only thinking back a few times what he could potentially do. Fred may not have the courage of these soldiers waiting for him, but he did have his honor. That was something he was never ready to lose. He swore to that Domani, burn her and her pretty eyes, that he would do this, and he would not break that oath.


Here was there. Right in front of him the citadel stood. Soldiers walking back and forth, men obviously training until their eyes seem to bleed. Axes, swords, bows, arrows, all kinds of variations of strong steel, they were the weapons of war, and Fred felt overwhelmed by the pace at which the men here seem to be moving. Honor. He kept moving. This isn't bloody who I am. Damn that oath! He stopped his horse now, staring, waiting for someone to approach him. Honor. It had to be done, and when Fred was approached by the first soldier, questioning on his reasons for being here, he was overcome by his own smile answering,


"I am a lover, not a fighter. But sometimes...loving leads to fighting."


Though Fred wasn't smiling because of his own answer, the soldier would never know that. Fred was smiling because he just noticed that a few, not many, but a few of the soldiers were girls. Pretty girls. His smile grew even bigger, if that was possible. Maybe it won't be so bad afterall.





Frederick Chaseron

Coward of Honor

Band of the Red Hand

Archer - WS 0

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