MORGAN
As much as she could help it, Morgan did not dwell in the past. It was not productive, rarely did anything for the future and unless it contained some kind of strategy or plan, had little to learn from, despite old sayings. Her own past was typical enough of someone in the city that it had no reason to hold her that much (she was not egotistical enough to think her own traumas and hurts were any more important than the current moment); all of that said, this time of year always brought with it memories.
Her father had been a strong man. Broad, with stern eyes and a thick, bristly beard; scars across his body that told of someone that had survived many fights. The Captain of the Deepfrost Shields brave in more than one way - he had never tossed away his illegitimate daughter. She had been taken in warmly, shown the way of the guardsmen, taught to use a sword. Easily, he could have told the men around him she was no child of his (she had always looked more like her mother), yet instead he had welcomed her in and taught her his ways.
That was, until his job had claimed him. It seemed stupid that after all his great achievements and battles that what would finally kill him would be a robber with a lucky shot, but that was how life was. Unfair, sudden, unexpected.
Kneeling before the memorial made for him in the guards tower, a painting depicting his stoic face and candles still lit beneath (by herself and the few older guards that remembered him) she closed her eyes and sighed, wondering how it was that after all this time, the wound could still smart so when she let herself pick at it. Holding out her hands palm up she whispered words too quiet for anyone else to hear, completely involved in her one sided conversation.
Her father had been a strong man. Broad, with stern eyes and a thick, bristly beard; scars across his body that told of someone that had survived many fights. The Captain of the Deepfrost Shields brave in more than one way - he had never tossed away his illegitimate daughter. She had been taken in warmly, shown the way of the guardsmen, taught to use a sword. Easily, he could have told the men around him she was no child of his (she had always looked more like her mother), yet instead he had welcomed her in and taught her his ways.
That was, until his job had claimed him. It seemed stupid that after all his great achievements and battles that what would finally kill him would be a robber with a lucky shot, but that was how life was. Unfair, sudden, unexpected.
Kneeling before the memorial made for him in the guards tower, a painting depicting his stoic face and candles still lit beneath (by herself and the few older guards that remembered him) she closed her eyes and sighed, wondering how it was that after all this time, the wound could still smart so when she let herself pick at it. Holding out her hands palm up she whispered words too quiet for anyone else to hear, completely involved in her one sided conversation.
There will come a time, you'll see
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
