Alsara: Requiem and Revolution

A Service and an Ambush which a Scribe changes jobs and everyone nearly dies.

— Had I been told this morning that I would be stepping down from my modest scribing position to take up road patrol, I don’t imagine I would have taken such a notion seriously. Yet here I am, the floor of my home housing people I only just met, and with a much more hazardous occupation. It occurs to me to wonder again how they knew the morning’s deceased, that they should have been so distraught over his passing…In any case, hopefully I will be able to speak with any of my kin we may encounter in the months ahead.

— Apparently, we are to be trained. Or…some of us. The dragonkin, Luka, is a weapon unto himself, and the soldiers’ wisdom was lost on me – in the practical sense, at least. Should we not need to use any of this training, I will be thankful.

— We fought today, against bandits. The woman who was their decoy seems to have run off, as well as some of their number who attacked us. I imagine others would curse the names of those who would have taken their lives without a second thought. And admittedly, I was for a moment consumed with the fury of Fire Hands in the heat of the skirmish. But in the end, I am merely thankful that none of our number were slain. Though…it is still unclear to me why exactly there were sheep, and in what numbers…but no more. For now: sleep.

- Osamu


Serathen AtmaDragoon

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