No Victory In Victoria (Home)

[Jorkahn Wealddir]

Jorkahn could finally see the familiar walls of Viktoria City. At least, they were mostly familiar. He noticed some ominous looking red banners hanging from the towers and some of the other buildings that were visible from this distance. The closer he got, the worse the feeling in the back of his mind became. Eventually, he noticed the multitude of soldiers wandering around the roads and outside the gates of the city. He always remembered there being military and warrior types in his hometown, with the amount of money that came through the city why wouldn't there be? But these men and women were particularly well disciplined and well armed. It rubbed him the wrong way, so to speak. The boy pulled the large, concealing hood of his cloak closer around his ears and face. It was one of the few things that made him feel a bit more comfortable around so many people.

When the boy was finally close enough to the gates that he could hear the rumble of the town he slowed his horse down to a trot, and then to a slow walk. The Champion of Jewels did not dismount from his large horse, it's companionship also serving to calm him down. This was his home, there was no reason to be nervous, was there? If one were able to see his fingers underneath his gauntleted hands they would be bone white from how hard he was gripping the reins.

Outwardly Jorkahn did not look well armed and armored, his dark brown travelling cloak concealing most of his weapons and armor. However, the loud clanking of his equipment betrayed the truth, as did the large battle-ax strapped to his back. The thought just occured to him, how would his family react to seeing him like this? Did he look like a true warrior? Or like a child playing soldier? He surely hoped it was the former.

The boy approached the gate atop his horse, he was getting a little anxious.

[Azuloth]

The gate guard shouted at the boy, waving his arm back and forth.

"Move along! Pay the toll up there! One cor! Move along! Don't stop traffic!"

They didn't care to stop him, search him, check his ears, or anything that one would think they'd do. They just wanted him to move along, pay the toll, and go about his business as normal. That was it. There were about ten guys milling about the gate, and all of them were armed and armored. Each of them had the red armband that signified they were with the local guard and were signed on with the RJG.

[Jorkahn Wealddir]

The young lad hadn't realized he was blocking traffic, then again as small as he was his horse took up quite a bit of space. Jorkahn opened his mouth almost as if to speak to the soldier but closed it in better judgment. He hurried Libby along to where he was directed and quickly paid the toll. Had there been a toll before? He couldn't remember ever paying one, perhaps it was newly instituted or he had been illegally bypassing it his entire childhood? Regardless it furthered the feeling of angst growing in the pit of his stomach.

When he was finally through, the guards giving nary a care about his presence, he started moving immediately to the street his father's business and the family house was located. The Champion took a good long gander around the city, what he saw made his heart stop. There were some building under construction and others that looked like they had been destroyed entirely. He vaguely knew some of the families in those buildings and he doubted they would be renovating or would have moved from the city. With a swift kick to his horse's sides, he threw her into a quick, but cautious, canter.

Whatever had happened he wanted to be certain that his family was alright. They were more important to him than anything else he could think of, specifically, his sister came to mind. As the horse ran through the streets he nearly bowled a few people over. He waved in apology but could not bring himself to stop or slow down. He could feel a pressure growing in his chest and his breath started to become more rapid.

If the boy wasn't stopped he would reach his house soon and see with his own eyes the state of his family.

[Jorkahn Wealddir]

As his horse cantered swiftly down the roads of Viktoria Jorkahn would pass by some areas of the city that seemed to be in worse shape or under more construction than the others. This did not bode well and only turned his thoughts darker and caused his heart to race faster. By the time he reached his house Libby was nearly in a full-blown gallop. Jorkahn turned onto the street his father's house and business were located on. After a moment of travel, the boy reached his house, or at least, what was left of his house. It had been burned to the ground, everything had been reduced to charcoal and what hadn't seemed to have been looted from the spot.

The Champion slowed his horse down to a crawl, his mouth agape as he stared at what was left of his family estate. He didn't know how to react, what to feel, what to say. He only knew how to stare. A few minutes passed by before the young man gripped his chest and fell from atop his horse. He struggled to his knees and crawled over to the charred remains of the steps that lead to the entrance. When he was finally able to touch the house he picked up the burned remains in his hands and shifted them around, as if he had never seen burnt wood before. "Gone. All of it, gone." The most important thing hit him suddenly, as he stood up with a jolt. What about his family? His sister?!

Jorkahn jumped into the charred pile that was his house and began to frantically dig around for remains. Any sign that his family was dead or alive. After a while his breath became more and more ragged, his hands cut up and bleeding. He felt an intense pressure from within his chest and, after a few moments, it escaped from his lungs as a moan that gradually crescendoed into a scream. He would search for several more minutes.

He had found nothing. No bodies, no valuables, none of the weapons, armor, or shields that his father collected, no books or tomes from his collection or his father's library. Nothing. Just burnt wood, melted metal, and ash. Jorkahn crawled out of his destroyed home and sat upon the remains of the porch. He was breathing heavily, most of his body cut, bruised, and dirty. He stared off into nothing, a forlorn look in his eyes. How long had it been since this had happened? What happened? Where is my family, are they alright? It looks like the house has been this way for a while, why has it not been cleaned up? A myriad of thoughts passed through his mind, he lacked the emotional stability to focus on any one for long, however.

Just then the boy looked up, movement catching his eye. Someone was passing by, a neighbor he vaguely recognized. It was a human dressed in expensive robes. The lad shot up and sprinted at the man. The poor man was visibly taken aback and nearly tripped over himself in surprise and fear. Jorkahn grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him close to his face, eyes desperate and a little manic. "What has happened here?! Where is my family? How long has my house been like this?!" The nobleman, or business man he could tell not, was terrified.

[Jorkahn Wealddir]

"Please don't kill me! Here, you can have the money I am carrying! Take it, just let me live!" The man had misunderstood. He thought he was being robbed when this was more of an impromptu interrogation. He reached into his robes in an attempt to pull out his purse. Jorkahn shook his head and as well shook the man. His eyes were wide and angry, yet also filled with despair. "I don't want your money or your life! I want to know what happened to my family! My house!" The boy began to choke up. The person he was shaking down was a bit relieved to hear that his life wasn't likely in danger, but he was still terrified. He took a good long look at the boy for the first time, then looked behind Jorkahn at the charred remains of the house. A frown appeared on his face.

"Y-you must be Pal'anorn's boy. I... I'm sorry to say son, but they're dead. All of them." The Champions grip loosened on the man's arms. His mouth was agape as his eyes desperately searched his neighbor's face for any sign of lying. After a brief staring contest, the boy began to let out a choked, pathetic laugh before finally falling to his knees. His mind was a mess, burning like a wildfire unable to stay in one spot.

The older man's fear was slowly being turned into pity for the boy in front of him. He was free now, but he dared not walk away. "They... It seemed like they locked them into the building and set it on fire. Their corpses were nothing but char when a cleanup crew came by. I... I'm sorry." The nobleman looked away for a moment. Jorkahn didn't move for a while but eventually spoke. The other man had to lean in close to hear him.

"Who are they?"

"The Royal Justean Guard, RJG. They are a nasty lot."

"I see... I am sorry for scaring you, sir. Please, leave me be."

The man in robes was unsure of what to do. He was being let go, but the boy's personality had seemed to change completely. He looked around for a bit before nervously hurrying on his way. Jorkahn was left there on his knees for a while. After a few minutes, the boy finally stood up and walked to the charred porch of his former residence before sitting down. He hugged himself tightly and lowered his head nearly to his knees. A sudden wave of emotion welled up inside him that he tried to fight down. Alas, he was not strong enough. Finally, the tears came.

[Jorkahn Wealddir]

When he finally opened his eyes again it was darker. The boy had fallen asleep. He didn't move for a while, not wanting to get up. Jorkahn didn't care about the burnt wood sticking into his sides, or the aches and pains that he felt around his body. He ignored the searing pain in his hands for just a few minutes. When he finally sat up he attempted to blink the soot and dried tears from his eyes, mostly unsuccessfully. As he brought his hands up to clear his eyes forcefully he stopped to look at them. They were cut to hell and bruised just as bad. It seemed like they were already swelling up a bit and had become infected, one large cut was still a bit moist.

The champion thought to cover them up with bandages, but then looked down again and realized where he was. It all came back to him in a rush of emotion and panic. He fumbled around, tears forming in his eyes again. It wasn't until he had seriously cut up his hands even more and the pain made thinking about anything else much more difficult that he calmed down again. The lad sat there holding his hands, focusing on nothing but the pain until it subsided enough for him to think. His thoughts went back to what the man he had accosted earlier had said. His family was dead. They weren't coming back. The emotions came back and this time, he couldn't hold them. It would be yet another while before he would become coherent again.

--

The sun was down by now. He had gone in and out of a series of panic attacks and emotional breakdowns. Very few people had passed by the catatonic young man, and none of them had helped. It made no difference, as he was in a state that nobody could have helped him out of. It took himself to break out of the trance and he had some thinking to do. The nobleman had mentioned the RJG. Murderers, the lot of them. At least in his eyes. His sadness was quickly overwhelmed by anger the likes of which he had never felt before.

"They must pay."

"I'll kill every one of them."

"They WILL pay!"

Yet again these outbursts would continue for a while. Elkagr blood or not, his emotions were running rampant. It took him a significantly smaller amount of time to recover from the anger to a point he could actually think. Though the rage was still simmering, the boy could actually control himself to an extent. He needed to find some answers, maybe find his family's killers. Return the favor? He wasn't sure if he could control himself in the moment, and frankly, he didn't care.

But first, he needed to clean up.