You don’t like the sound of the Quillars and it doesn’t really sound all that much safer. You decide that at the Tulan border you’ll at least be with a few people you already know from boot camp and you’ll be fighting something less scary. (Or at least human)
“I’ll take the Tulan Border assignment sir.”
“Hm, I’m surprised. Hope your skills come in of some use there. Here’s your first month’s pay, I suggest you live it up here in Zal, for the couple of days you have off before you leave.”
You take the small bag and look inside. This will certainly help your family. You take a few coins for yourself and then ask if arrangements can be made to have your payment sent to your family from now on. He tells you yes, but asks that surely that you will still want some of it. You agree to just taking 10% of it. You don’t need much.
“Sheesh, living bare minimum huh? Don’t you want to eat anything other than military rations every once in awhile?” Kosser questions again.
“Nah. If I need extra food, I’ll just hunt.”
“You know there aren’t many luxuries on the border, but when a traveling merchant shows up, you might regret not having enough money. You sure you don’t want more?”
“Nope. I’ll be fine. My family needs that money more than I do.”
“Alright then, family man.”
You exit the barracks and wander the city a bit. You find it very interesting. You sort of wish you could stay longer to take in more sights. However one thing catches your eye. A small store and in the window is a lute. Looks almost like the one you had before it was taken away from you in basic training. You haven’t gotten a chance to play in six months and you’d really like to…
Hey you’re a soldier now, you’ve proven yourself. You figure you can take one personal belonging with you to Tulan as long as you keep them packed properly. You enter the store and with the little money you have you buy the lute. You spend the most of the day and the next practicing it. You didn’t forget as much as you thought. You also finish up writing a letter to your family and give it to a Zalan messenger carrier.
Finally the third day arrives for you to move out. A couple of officers arrive to take all of you. You’re stopped though as you’re picked out.
“Hold up you. What’s that?”
“It’s a lute sir.”
“A lute? What the fuck do you think this is? An acting company? Get rid of that thing, you won’t be needing that where you’re going!”
“But…”
“You disobeying me soldier?”
“No sir!”
“Alright then, get rid of it!”
You sadly get rid of your lute which you never got to play and basically wasted your money on. You don’t know what you were thinking anyway. You’re in the damn army. You’re going to be doing a lot of fighting and all of that, not playing some stupid instrument. You should’ve realized that the first time it was taken away from you in boot camp.
You’ve made this choice; you need to just put these dreams of being a “musician” out of your head right now. You weren’t meant to be one, and all those years of deluding yourself in between real work were just fleeting dreams of a teenager. Time to grow up.
While you resign yourself to this mindset, you aren’t particularly happy with it. When you get to the Tulan Border you’re even less happy. Your first battle is filled with all the bad stuff that usually accompanies such things. It’s definitely not a fun assignment and your only consolation is that you know your family is getting more financial aid for you doing this.
After a few months, you’re absolutely miserable. You don’t have your music to keep your mind off of the conditions and everything is bad here. The fort you’re currently stationed at supplies only the bare minimum of living, no magical back up, the captain is a real asshole and the rest of those you serve with aren’t too much better. Though so many are killed everyday that you never really grow to dislike (or like) anyone that much in that department. More are sent in and more die, it’s like an ongoing cycle, everyone’s so expendable in this ongoing border war that gets worse with each passing month.
It doesn’t even come to your surprise when the day comes that you’re mortally wounded while on patrol. One of the new soldiers tells you to hold on and that he’ll get help, but you know he won’t get any in time and it wouldn’t matter anyway.
As you lay dying, your only regret is that you didn’t get to play music like you always wanted to, and now you never will.
“I’ll take the Tulan Border assignment sir.”
“Hm, I’m surprised. Hope your skills come in of some use there. Here’s your first month’s pay, I suggest you live it up here in Zal, for the couple of days you have off before you leave.”
You take the small bag and look inside. This will certainly help your family. You take a few coins for yourself and then ask if arrangements can be made to have your payment sent to your family from now on. He tells you yes, but asks that surely that you will still want some of it. You agree to just taking 10% of it. You don’t need much.
“Sheesh, living bare minimum huh? Don’t you want to eat anything other than military rations every once in awhile?” Kosser questions again.
“Nah. If I need extra food, I’ll just hunt.”
“You know there aren’t many luxuries on the border, but when a traveling merchant shows up, you might regret not having enough money. You sure you don’t want more?”
“Nope. I’ll be fine. My family needs that money more than I do.”
“Alright then, family man.”
You exit the barracks and wander the city a bit. You find it very interesting. You sort of wish you could stay longer to take in more sights. However one thing catches your eye. A small store and in the window is a lute. Looks almost like the one you had before it was taken away from you in basic training. You haven’t gotten a chance to play in six months and you’d really like to…
Hey you’re a soldier now, you’ve proven yourself. You figure you can take one personal belonging with you to Tulan as long as you keep them packed properly. You enter the store and with the little money you have you buy the lute. You spend the most of the day and the next practicing it. You didn’t forget as much as you thought. You also finish up writing a letter to your family and give it to a Zalan messenger carrier.
Finally the third day arrives for you to move out. A couple of officers arrive to take all of you. You’re stopped though as you’re picked out.
“Hold up you. What’s that?”
“It’s a lute sir.”
“A lute? What the fuck do you think this is? An acting company? Get rid of that thing, you won’t be needing that where you’re going!”
“But…”
“You disobeying me soldier?”
“No sir!”
“Alright then, get rid of it!”
You sadly get rid of your lute which you never got to play and basically wasted your money on. You don’t know what you were thinking anyway. You’re in the damn army. You’re going to be doing a lot of fighting and all of that, not playing some stupid instrument. You should’ve realized that the first time it was taken away from you in boot camp.
You’ve made this choice; you need to just put these dreams of being a “musician” out of your head right now. You weren’t meant to be one, and all those years of deluding yourself in between real work were just fleeting dreams of a teenager. Time to grow up.
While you resign yourself to this mindset, you aren’t particularly happy with it. When you get to the Tulan Border you’re even less happy. Your first battle is filled with all the bad stuff that usually accompanies such things. It’s definitely not a fun assignment and your only consolation is that you know your family is getting more financial aid for you doing this.
After a few months, you’re absolutely miserable. You don’t have your music to keep your mind off of the conditions and everything is bad here. The fort you’re currently stationed at supplies only the bare minimum of living, no magical back up, the captain is a real asshole and the rest of those you serve with aren’t too much better. Though so many are killed everyday that you never really grow to dislike (or like) anyone that much in that department. More are sent in and more die, it’s like an ongoing cycle, everyone’s so expendable in this ongoing border war that gets worse with each passing month.
It doesn’t even come to your surprise when the day comes that you’re mortally wounded while on patrol. One of the new soldiers tells you to hold on and that he’ll get help, but you know he won’t get any in time and it wouldn’t matter anyway.
As you lay dying, your only regret is that you didn’t get to play music like you always wanted to, and now you never will.
- ID: 56036
- Nickname: tulanborder
- Hits: 93
